Sweet Seduction
by broadwaygirl257
Summary: EC fluff with a plotline: When Raoul goes mad in his plan to ensnare the Phantom during Don Juan, Christine turns to the Phantom, her angel that she has always trusted, and eventually, begins to fall in love with him COMPLETED Nov. 26
1. Chapter 1

_**Sweet Seduction**_

_Chapter One: No One Would Listen_

**A/N:** Hey everyone!I'm back and am so glad to be writing again! So, anyway, I can't say that this is my first E/C fanfic (_Sweet Intoxication_ has that title) but anyway, I hope it'll be the first really long and detailed and, (miraculously) the first spelling/grammatically correct one!

No, this is NOT a sequel to Sweet Intoxication, sorry. It is an E/C romantic fanfic, but a totally different story. Yes, I'm aware it starts off with Raoul and Christine, but Erik will come in to the story soon enough, so just keep reading and be sure to review and tell me what you thought! Enjoy!

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**Summary:** When Raoul goes mad in his plan to ensnare the Phantom during Don Juan, Christine turns to the Phantom, her angel that she has always trusted, and eventually, begins to fall in love with him... The story starts during "Twist Every Way" as Christine has a difficult time making her choice.

* * *

Christine listened to Raoul's ingenious plan carefully in the chapel while burying her hands nervously in the mounds of her black silken skirt spread across her lap, a tiny bit of hope starting to bloom over the fear and anxiety in her mind. Maybe at last this horrible Phantom would finally be captured and she would be free of him forever. But she still worried. It was too big of a risk to take. How did she know she wouldn't be taken down to his lair against her will... or worse?.

"Raoul, I'm so sorry, but I can't possibly do this. It's too frightening. He'll take me again. I know he will. We'll be parted forever. He won't let me go!" she pleaded

Raoul stroked her cheek gently "Christine, I would never let anything happen to you. You mean so much to me, darling. But, don't you understand? The entire plan is dependent on you singing in his opera. It's the only way we're sure we can capture him. It's the only way you'll ever be free!" he exclaimed

She sighed " I know that Raoul. But I just can't go through with this. I'm sorry. I can't do it. I won't do it."

Raoul stood up suddenly "Christine, you must be joking! You know this is the only way we'll ever be rid of him! It's the only way you can ever be free of that demon! Do you remember what happened this morning, in the cemetery, when he almost kidnapped you again? You were lucky I showed up in time to save you! Christine, can't you see? If you don't perform tonight, that sort of thing is going to keep occurring for the rest of your life!" he exclaimed, a wild look clouding over his eyes

She stood up angrily "Raoul, I cannot believe you! I told you, I just can't do it. You don't understand. You have never been down to his lair before. You've never heard him sing before, with his enchanting voice... You weren't there to see that hurt and fear in his eyes when I pulled his mask off, to see that longing for love and compassion underneath his hideous face. He's in love with me, Raoul, and he'll do anything to have me. You can't possibly understand. I'm not going to put myself in danger tonight, especially not so I can betray him, after all he's done for me"

Raoul grabbed her arms tightly, pulling her towards him as she gasped from the pain

"You mean to tell me, after everything I have done for you and all we have been through together, you love that...that deformed _monster_ instead of me?"

She shook her head frantically "Raoul, I never meant that! I just said-"

He glared at her, an ice-cold fury in his eyes that instantly silenced her pleas

"You will perform in that opera tonight and you will help me capture that man! Do you understand?" he said in a low voice

Christine nodded, barely aware of what she was doing. This wasn't her Raoul, the Raoul she had fallen in love with, the man he trusted. It was as if some horrible demon had taken control of him.

He grasped her arms tighter, increasing his iron grip and her pain

"And don't you dare ever say you love that monster! If you can't love me, you won't live to love anyone again! Do you understand?"

Now, she glared back at him

"No"

He starred at her

"What did you just say?"

"No. Raoul, what if I do love him? Is that too horrible to believe?" she pleaded with him, tears in her eyes. She was so confused right now. What had the Phantom, her angel, ever done to her that was so horrid that she would need to turn him over to the police tonight? In fact, had he ever really harmed her? He truly hadn't kidnapped her that night so long ago, after her debut, she'd gone willingly. And, except for when she removed his mask, it had been the most magical, unbelievable night of her life. Again in the cemetery, he had never harmed her or done anything at all to her except sing. Raoul had come charging in, sword drawn, ready to protect her. Protect her from what? Her angel's voice? Now that she thought of it, this horrible "Phantom" had never done anything to harm her. He was her angel, always looking out for her, protecting her, guiding her when she had no one else in the world to turn to. Why couldn't Raoul understand why she couldn't just betray him like that?

What if she truly did love him?

Raoul began panting heavily, starring coldly into Christine's eyes straight into her soul. Christine knew she could never escape from that horrible glare, even if she tried.

"Christine, you cannot love him! You love me, remember? You do not love that monster! He is not worthy of your love! He's not even a true man! You can NOT love him!" he screamed, throwing Christine onto the hard, stone floor of the chapel. She felt the throbbing pain in her hip as it collided with the cold ground and her black skirt fly up past her knees, her petticoats and stockings in plain view as she was immodestly sprawled across the floor. Raoul didn't even seem to notice as he paced around the chapel, muttering furiously to himself as if Christine weren't there.

"How can she possibly imagine falling in love with him? She loves me... That's why I have to capture him... He's a danger to her...bewitched her to make her think she loves him. It's not true. It can't be true. Once he's caught tonight, Christine will love me again,... realize what a fool...I'll capture him! He'll be all mine!"

Raoul so was deeply involved with his rapidly evolving plan to capture his rival then, he didn't even notice when Christine forced herself up off the floor and ran up the steps to leave the chapel. Her body was screaming with pain and her skirts had never been heavier as she ran up the flights of stairs. It wasn't until she was safely backstage that she heard Raoul's enraged scream when he realized she had deserted him, making her choice quite clear. She heard him pounding his way up the stairs and began running again, her heart beating wildly and her hair breaking free of its knot. She moved herself through the narrowly twisting hallways, numb with fear. Raoul had gone mad. His desire to capture this Phantom had forced him into an abyss of insanity, and now that she had refused him, there was no telling what he would do to her. She had to hide from him.

Almost ready to cry with relief, she made her way into her dressing room, locking the door behind her as she leaned against it for support while she panted. When she had at last calmed down, she realized who it was she needed, wanted to go to to comfort her, to help her. Almost reverently, she approached the full sized mirror to her right, pausing before she undid the latch and pushed the door to the side. Memories swarmed over her as she made her way through the dim, musty passageway. It looked so dark and frightening as she went through it now, without her angel to guide her. She wondered if she was going the right way.

Finally, the tunnel lead her out of the darkness and into the underground stables. She blinked as her eyes adjusted to the bright afternoon light. Making her way through the mounds of hay and horse stalls, she finally came to the passage she was looking for and descended through the dark, confusing tunnels, finally reaching the lake. Conveniently, the very boat she had ridden in with him all those months ago was floating here now, with the guiding oar laying inside it. She hesitantly stepped into the boat, uncertain of her balance as the boat began swaying suddenly, but finally calmed enough to allow her to bend down (a precarious task while wearing her tight corset) and fetch the oar allowing her to begin making her way to his lair.

She was so upset and confused, it barely seemed like any time at all had passed before she was nearly there. So many thoughts ran through her mind

_Why was Raoul so angry with me? He doesn't even understand why I can't do it. He certainly wouldn't do it if he had to make the choice. Has he really gone mad? Was that my fault? Did I drive him to insanity? And what about this Phantom or Angel, or whoever he is right now! Oh god, I can't even think straight anymore. Is he really my Angel? Did Father truly send him to me, or was it just my imagination? Then, who is he? How do I know I'll even find him down here? Oh, what am I supposed to do?_

A sweet, low, melodious voice cut through her thoughts. Her mind seemed to go blank as she softly rowed the boat to the shore, listening. It was almost as if she was possessed by her angel's voice, the sad, bitter emotions welled in his voice cutting through her heart like a knife.

_**No one would listen,**_

_**I alone could hear the music.**_

_**Then at last a voice in the gloom**_

_**Seemed to cry, I hear you,**_

_**I hear your fears, your torment and your tears!**_

_**She saw my loneliness,**_

_**Shared in my emptiness,**_

_**No one would listen,**_

_**No one but her, heard as the outcast hears…**_

She could see him, even with his back turned to her, wiping the tears from his eyes, and she could feel the tears welling up in her own eyes as well. He sighed and laid his head in his hands. Christine never wanted that moment to end. The pure, raw emotion in his voice had struck a chord somewhere deep in her soul. She now knew that she had been right: She could never love Raoul as much as she loved her angel at that moment.

She wasn't quite sure how to make her presence known, but it felt so awkward just standing there in the boat, waiting for him to turn around or say something or...anything. So, she did what she thought was best: began singing. Her voice was weak and warbling from all the crying she'd been doing, but she struggled to hold on to the familiar melody

_Angel, I hear you_

_Speak, I listen_

_Stay by my side, guide me!_

He turned around sharply the moment she started her song. No, this couldn't be. His mind had to be deceiving him. It couldn't possibly be real. Was it? Was Christine Daae, his angel, his novice young student, really standing there before him, a vision with her mused brown curls, tear streaked face and ripped silky black skirt, in his gondola, pleading with him? Singing to him? What in heaven's name was she doing?

"Christine" he said softly, his voice betraying him as it cracked with emotion "What are you doing here? Why did you-"

"I couldn't stay away from my angel" she replied softly "My heart wouldn't let me"

He felt the last little shred of strength he had in him shatter when she said that. She had come back, of her own choice. But why?

He strode over to where she stood, offering his arm to help her out of the boat. She took it gratefully, stumbling a bit as she made her way onto the land. He gently led her over to where he had just been sitting, and watched as she collapsed into the chair, her skirt swirling into little black rivers of silken material, her gentle hands resting in her lap. This was all too impossible to be believed.

Indeed, he felt he should be lashing out at her, releasing all the angry, bitter thoughts about her kept hidden for so long, but strangely, he couldn't bring himself to say anything to her. He just stood silently,by her. In fact, she began their conversation.

After a few moments, she sighed and said

"I'm so sorry to intrude like this, so suddenly-"

"No, don't be!" he broke in, feeling foolish as she glanced at him. He knelt down beside her as she continued

"But, Angel, I just didn't know what to do, and I had to warn you!" she exclaimed suddenly

He glanced at her, keeping his amusement at bay

"Warn me? About what, prey tell?" he inquired

"Well, after the little...mishap at the cemetery this morning, Raoul thought of some amazing plan to, well...capture you. They're going to perform your opera next evening, and all the police and everyone will be there. And Raoul figured that, if I was to play Aminta, they were certain you'd attend and I could help them... by turning you in"

"Oh" he said in mock disappointment "So, I suppose you agreed"

She looked sharply at him, the shock evident in her expression

"Heavens no! Do you really think I would do something like that to you? I couldn't! I wouldn't agree to go along with it and-" she stopped, looking at him as a small smile rolled across his face

"What? What is it?"

"Christine" he began, sighing "I already know about all of this. It isn't anything new"

She was amazed "But how? How could you have possibly found out about it?"

He glanced at her "News like that isn't hard to miss when your finance was flouncing about all over the place, proclaiming it to everyone in sight. I've already heard all the details about his 'ingenious' plan by numerous people. The only part I hadn't known about was your decision"

She stood up suddenly "You truly thought I would agree to go along with it? Angel, how could you? Did you really think I would just betray you like that and hand you over to the police? I'm not that heartless and ignorant!" she exclaimed

He was a bit taken aback by her sudden outburst, but tried not to show it as he smoothly stood up and turned his back to her, trying to avoid her eyes.

"Well, presently, I wouldn't be a bit surprised if you had agreed."

She looked at him pitifully

"You really think I would do that to you?" After everything you've given me, you thought that was how I'd repay you? Angel, do you really think I would be telling you all of this if I had agreed to his plan?" she asked calmly

He turned around

"Well, no, I suppose you wouldn't be. So, then, why did you come back? Not that I mind of course-" he added hastily- " but I thought you were far too busy swooning over your precious Vicomte" he muttered bitterly

She lowered her eyes to the floor, aware of his ever piercing gaze on her, waiting for a response

Sighing, she softly muttered the words he thought he would never hear her ever say to him

"I'm sorry Angel"

He looked at her more tenderly now

"What did you say?"

"I'm sorry. You were right. I didn't really love Raoul. I thought I did, but I realized I never could have, after today. And I'm sorry for betraying your trust like that. You were always the one who was there to help me and guide me when I was so alone, and I just ignored you for the longest time. I'm sorry" she said as her voice broke before she sank to her knees, crying. She buried her head in her hands, unable to keep the tears in any longer.

He walked over to her silently, awkwardly watching the unbelievable display of her emotion. He never realized that she might have still really cared for him, even during her little infatuation with the Vicomte.

Bending down, he embraced her in his gentle, warm arms and she turned towards him, continuing to cry. He stroked her hair softly, the chestnut curls gliding under his fingers like the sweetest flowers, her silken skirt flowing over her thin, gorgeous legs, the excess fabric spilling over onto his body. He thought he smelled the faintest trace of lavender emerging from her skin, and he almost began crying along with his young love when he realized this wasn't one of his imagined, comforting fantasies. This was reality. Christine really was curled up against him, her body trembling in constant motion with her sobs in his comforting grasp.

"Oh god, I'm so frightened. Please, Angel, I need you. I can't go back up there, I just can't. He'll find me again"

He tilted her head up to face his, while trying to make sense of her frightened ramblings

"Christine, who are you talking about? What's wrong?"

"Raoul" she choked out "He frightened me in...in the chapel when he was screaming at me before he..he" she sobbed, unable to go on

Erik felt his own small sense of panic welling up inside him. What had that ignorant boy done to her to scare her so badly?

He grasped her shoulders tightly "Christine, what did he do to you? Tell me what he did"

She looked up at him through hollow, tear-streaked eyes

"He said that if..if I couldn't love him, I wouldn't live to love anyone else again and then he knocked me to the floor" she whispered

The panic Erik had felt rising up inside him was now replaced by a sense of instant fury. That fool had threatened her life! And then hit her! _Well, you did the same_ a voice hissed in his mind _Remember? So long ago, when she just removed your mask, you knocked her too the ground and said far worse things to her_

He shook his head, as if physically trying to clear all the unwanted, but true thoughts from it. That wasn't important right now. He'd think about that later.

He was just about to offer to Christine that she was welcome to stay down here with him, if she wanted, when she looked up at him pleadingly and asked

"Oh Angel, I know it's certainly too sudden, and this is extremely imposing, but, would you mind if I stayed down here, just for a short while? I can't... I really can't go back up there again. Would you mind terribly?"

He felt a warm smile spreading across his face

'No, not at all. It would be my pleasure"

He gently helped her up off the floor. Her legs felt so weak after all the running and climbing that she literally fell into his arms. He smiled, still not believing he had been blessed like this.

The Phantom showed Christine a large room she could stay in (he had furnished it with her in mind, always hoping that one day, something of this sort would happen) Before she fell asleep on the large bed, she remembered asking him

"Angel?"

He turned in the doorway "Yes Christine? What is it?"

"I've always wondered something about you"

He smirked curiously "What?"

"Do you have a real name"

He smiled

"Erik. You may call me Erik"


	2. Preparations and A Plan

_**Sweet Seduction**_

_Chapter Two: Preparations and a Plan_

_A/N:_ Okay, now we're going to start with the EC fluff...

And thank you for the reviews.

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_Erik sighed contentedly. He still could not believe the scene unfolding before his eyes. The last two hours had been by far the most perfect, happily spent time of his life. After Christine had calmed down and taken a short nap, she had emerged from the bedroom, after bathing and changing into a springy green dress, which matched her body measurements perfectly. She was a bit embarrassed about her sudden outburst of emotions with him, which was obvious from the pale spots of color in her cheeks that had yet to fade, but he had assured her everything was fine. She was much calmer now, peacefully reading a book from his immense library. He was trying to read, but his book couldn't hold his attention for a moment when he knew she was seated right across the room from him, a few mere feet away. She was so beautiful, her eyes racing over the pages, her gentle hand delicately twirling a lock of her velvety curls through her fingers, with her head resting against the back of the plush armchair and her legs folded gracefully underneath her. 

"Christine?" he asked gently

She was so engrossed in her novel, she didn't even respond. He had to stifle a chuckle. Though possessing the gorgeous body of a woman, Christine was still such a child, swept away by tales of chivalrous knights, their noble steeds and fair maidens in enchanted lands.

"Christine?" he called again

She still didn't respond. He was starting to get some amusement out of this now. Standing up, he cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted

"CHRISTINE!"

"What!" she shrieked, flinging a hand to her heart and finally coming out of her daydreams. She had been enjoying her rare free time, reading some of the same stories her father had read to her as a child, the memories and feelings overwhelming her. For a moment, she had been back on the seashore, watching the waves roll onto the gentle sand while sitting on her fathers lap, the sweet taste of the peppermint candy still vivid in her memory, listening to his tale about Little Lottie and her Angel of Music...

She glanced up at her Angel...no, _Erik_. Erik was standing over her, an amused grin still left on his face. She waited until her heart stopped pounding in her chest from the scare to begin speaking, trying to salvage a little bit of dignity

"Yes? What did you want An-Erik?"

_Erik._ The name felt so foreign on her tongue. She didn't truly think her Angel had a name. He was just...her angel. Having a name made him more of...a man, a real living man. No, she was just being foolish. Of course he was a real man. He wasn't truly an angel. He'd explained it to her a bit sheepishly, after introducing himself, that he really wasn't an angel. But, she was so young and scared and he had just wanted to comfort her and protect her, and she believed the voice coming from the rafters was her angel. She trusted and believed in her Angel, so he hadn't told her the truth, but he finally did, now that she was old enough. A small part of her still wished she believed that illusion.

"I just wanted to see if you wanted anything. You've been very quiet" he said

She smiled "I've been reading, Erik."

"Well, I can see that. Are you, uh, enjoying your story?"

"Very much, thank you for lending it to me"

"Don't mention it my dear. You can borrow any other books you like from my library."

She smiled "I know, you've already told me several times. You certainly are very hospitable"

He sat down next to her, shrugging "Well, it isn't everyday that I have the privilege of company, especially such beautiful company as yourself"

She blushed "Erik, stop it. You don't really mean that"

He pretended to be offended "Mademoiselle, are you accusing me of being insincere?"

She laughed, one of the sweetest sounds he'd ever heard "No, I could never say that. You've never been anything but sincere."

They both fell silent for a moment, both well aware how close they were. When Erik moved, his leg brushed up against hers for the slightest second, sending a silent tremor of excitement through both of them. The intimacy of the situation made Erik more bold than he normally was, and he reached up, stroking Christine's' cheek for the sweetest moment, her soft smooth skin gliding under his hand, to brush back a stray curl that had fallen loose from her hair ribbon.

"I would never be insincere with you, Christine"

They were so close. Almost close enough to kiss...

Christine felt so many mixed emotions going through her mind. She liked being this close to him. It was so sweet and she felt safe and warm with him next to her. Was she beginning to love him, as more than just her tutor, but maybe, as a man?

She moved closer to him, their faces a few inches apart. He seemed so strong, yet so gentle. She wanted to kiss him, to know him, to feel him. But, did he feel that way for her? His eyes had a look about them she had never seen before, almost hungry and wanting, almost lustful.

She was ready to kiss him, but she hesitated. He looked ready. He seemed ready. But was she?

They both wanted that moment to last forever, but Christine lost her nerve at the last minute, and the kiss intended for his sweet lips landed on his cheek instead, warm and quick. She wasn't ready. She couldn't believe she'd even consider it, and now she had to face the awkward, painful look on his face he was desperately trying to conceal, but his eyes betrayed him.

She broke the awkward silence between them.

"Thank you for the compliments, Angel. Did you, um, did you want something?"

He forced himself to smile, for her sake. She hadn't been ready to kiss him. He'd been far too bold with her, to suggest something like that, and he awkwardly realized he was still pressed against her. He bolted up, turning to face her. "Well, yes, I did. I was just, I was... wondering if you were all right. Is there anything you'd like? Are you hungry or anything?" he blurted out at the last moment. How could such a petite creature intimidate him so much that his knees turned to jelly whenever she glanced at him?

She smiled again. He was so sweet and kind to her. She had to admit, she was a little hungry, but he'd already done enough for her, and she'd feel so awkward eating if he wasn't going to yet. She would just wait a little while longer.

"No, I'm fine, thank you"

Well, her voice didn't betray her, but her stomach did, omitting a loud, obvious growl as soon as she'd finish speaking. She could feel herself blushing again

"All right, maybe I am a little hungry" she admitted

He pointed over to the far side of his lair, hidden from view

"That's a bit of a makeshift kitchen...dining..area...thing. There should be some bread or fruit in the cabinet, or you can just search around for what you'd like"

She walked over to where he had directed. It was small, but she could see a hallway going out of the room, with at least five doorways. Good gracious, how big _was _this place?

She looked at him settling back into the lounge chair with his book and walked over, calling out politely

"Would you like to join me?"

He looked up, shaking his head

"No thank you"

She looked at him

"Aren't you hungry too? You probably haven't eaten a thing all day?"

"No, I don't tend to eat that much. Most of the time I'm composing and just to busy for such trivial interruptions. No, really, I'm fine. Go ahead, have whatever you like" he exclaimed, settling himself back in his chair with his novel.

'Oh, all right then. Well, thank you"

She went back over and set about preparing herself a light snack, wondering childishly if he would happen to have any peppermints around...

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He pretended to be reading his book, but the printed words were the farthest thing from his mind. He watched her over the cover of his book, scurrying around his pathetic excuse for a kitchen, looking every bit the pristine young housewife. He dared to dream for a moment, that maybe this was what it would be like if they were ever to be married... 

While Erik listened to her moving about the kitchen, a far more familiar sound caught his attention as he focused on the wall behind his desk and the familiar sounds of the trap door opening.

_Oh no, please don't let it be her, God, I can't take this too. Please. Not. Now._

His prayers went obviously unanswered as the door opened to reveal Mme. Giry, striding over to Erik's chair hastily

"All right, Erik, where is she?"

He peered at her over his book

"To whom are you referring?" he asked cordially

She scowled "You know 'to whom I'm referring'. Christine! She hasn't been at rehearsals and the entire staff's talking about it. Now Erik, I thought you had enough sense not to do this again! Her reputation's finally starting to recover from your foolish little escapade after her debut and then you had to go and bring her down here_ again_!Now, where is she, and please tell me that you didn't-"

"Mme. Giry?" Christine called out "Is that you"

She glared at Erik

"Where are you hiding her, Erik?"

He felt a hot flash of shame creep up his neck. Why did she still make him feel like a guilty child when he was a grown man? He muttered angrily

"I'm not 'hiding' her anywhere, she's in the kitchen. Go look for yourself"

She strode over to what he disgracefully called a "kitchen" and sure enough, there was Christine, chopping up carrots on the counter. Christine looked over her shoulder, her face lighting up as Mme. Giry hugged her

"Oh, Christine! Oh dear, you had me quite worried there for a moment when you weren't there for rehearsals"

She felt the young girl bristle and stepped away from her

"Rehearsals? Why ever would I go to rehearsals? I'm not singing the part!" she said forcefully

Mme. Giry turned to look at Erik

"All right, one of you needs to begin explaining. Now"

Christine walked her over to the couch, settling down with her snack and explaining what happened in the chapel and why she'd come down here, with Erik filling in the little bits of information she'd forgotten. Mme. Giry sank back against the sofa

"Oh, that's a relief. Of course, I assumed you already knew of the plan, what, with the boy parading around proud as a peacock and screaming it to the heavens, but I wanted to be sure, _non_? So, it is certain? You're not going to sing?"

Christine shook her head firmly. Mme. Giry looked at her

"And you have heard about the Vicomte, I presume?"

She looked at her oddly

"No, what about Rao- The Vicomte?"

"My dear, this isn't an easy way to say this, but he's, well-" she grasped Christine's hand gently "-he's gone insane."

At that, for some inexplicable reason, Erik and Christine both burst out laughing, leaving poor Mme. Giry in shock. When they had both calmed down, Erik was finally able to speak again, her face flaming red against the white porcelain mask

"Oh, Marie, sorry, forgive the outburst, but we know that already." he gasped

Christine had tears in her eyes, she was laughing so hard

"Mme. Giry, that's why I came down here. He was frightening me and I just knew he'd gone mad. But, how did you find out?"

"Oh, he came bursting into rehearsals, ranting and raving about his plan and how he was going to kill the Phantom and on and on. Someone's tried to report him to the asylum and when a representative showed up, Monsieur Vicomte bribed him off and that was the end of that and when Carlotta dared to whine to Raoul about her precious little role in the opera, he tried to punch her!" she exclaimed, which brought a laugh from all three of them

After a few more pleasantries ( and scoldings) in the conversation between Erik and Mme. Giry, she turned to Christine

"But, my dear, I thought you should know, Messieurs Andre and Firmin have called in almost every policemen and guard in Paris for the performance tomorrow. You truly aren't going to sing?"

"No, I am not singing tomorrow. Why would I agree to be part of that wicked plot? I don't want to help Raoul and turn Erik in! I couldn't do that to him?"

"Well, my dear, when are you going to return to the Opera? You are quite the lady of the hour right now, and you're no where to be found!People are going to get suspicious. You need to return sometime, and soon. After all, though it's kind of Erik to offer so, you can't stay here much longer. It wouldn't be proper-"

"Oh, but Madame, I can't go back now! Raoul's still looking for me and everyone will just try to force me sing to tomorrow night and I can't! I want to stay down here with Erik"

"Christine, would you think for a moment? You can't stay down here, unchaperoned, with a man when you're currently the most sought after lady in all of Paris and the Opera's newest star! Now, Erik may be kind in his intentions, but it wouldn't be right to-"

"Uh, ladies?" Erik interrupted, raising his hand "Yes, just so you know, I'm still here" he added awkwardly

They both turned to look at him. Mme. Giry raised the question

"Well? What are we going to do?"

He shrugged "I, frankly don't care about all the gossiping socialites in Paris looking for her, they can go to hell. And, Christine, you may stay down here as long as you wish if you don't want to leave yet" he added

She smiled gratefully, lowering her eyes

"Thank you"

Mme. Giry rolled her eyes "Well, that obviously shows how much you two care about what the rest of the Opera is saying about her. I just wanted you to know" she said, walking over towards the kitchen

Erik leaned back and began rubbing his head "Oh, for Christ's sakes Marie, you're worse than when we were teenagers, going on about 'what everyone says'. Who cares?" he exclaimed

"Well, I certainly do, and I thought you would too, since you've both worked so hard to ensure she remained the Prima Donna" she shouted back

Christine walked over to sit on the side of the armchair

"But, Erik" she began "What about your opera?"

He sighed bitterly "Well, it's just a shame I spent twenty years writing the damn thing and they probably won't even perform it now, since de Changy's plan is going to fail. But, that really isn't that important. Don't concern yourself about it" he said, gently patting her hand

Mme. Giry came back over

"It is a shame, it's a fine play, Erik"

He sighed. It had been written for Christine to perform. He had often imagined her soprano voice singing as Aminta and she had been his muse for the part during the long, lonely hours he'd spent composing it. He supposed it was all going to go to waste.

Mme. Giry though, had other ideas. Her eyes lit up and there was a spark in her voice as she announced

"Maybe there is a way it could be performed"

Erik and Christine both looked up at her

"How?" Christine asked curiously

"Well" she said, settling comfortably into the chair opposite them "Picture this: What if we performed the opera, but Erik wouldn't be captured?"

"Marie" he asked exasperatedly "How is that going to work?"

"Erik, be quiet and listen! If Christine did sing the role, the opera would be performed, oui? So, if she changes her mind, Christine could star in the opera-"

"But Mme. Giry, I have already told you, I can't do it" she burst in

Mme. Giry silenced her protests "Dear, this time, the joke would be on the Vicomte. You would sing the role, the police, patrons, everyone in Paris would be in attendance, except" she paused, narrowing her eyes at Erik "the man they're looking for"

Erik nodded, beginning to catch on "So, you're suggesting I don't attend my own opera?"

"Preciously! Don't you two see? It could all work out. Christine could sing, in no danger whatsoever, Raoul's plan will fail miserably, and all you, Erik, have to do, is sit down here and exercise some self control by not attending. You won't be caught, and maybe all these rumors will stop about the Phantom!"

He nodded "It would work out perfectly, but Marie, come now. I can't even watch the opera I wrote being performed? Couldn't the plan still work if I just stay hidden and watch it, like I do all the others? No one would know!" he protested

She shook her head firmly

"No Erik, the place will be crawling with police officers, and they'll surely search everywhere for you. It would be too big a risk" she said

Christine nodded looking at him

"She's right. It would be far too dangerous for you"

He looked up at her

"So, you're agreeing to this? You'll really perform?"

She bit her lip, thinking

"Well, if no one would be hurt, and it was just another performance, and Raoul's plan will fail, then, I might consider it" she said hopefully

Erik sighed, sinking back into the chair. Great. His opera he'd slaved over for twenty years would be performed, and he wasn't even going to get to see it! But, it did sound like a marvelous plan Marie had thought of, and Christine may finally perform his dream role, the role that had literally been written for her!

He relented "Well, fine. I suppose I can't fight you both. I promise, I'll stay down here like a good little Phantom of the Opera"

Mme. Giry smiled "Very good then"

Erik shrugged "But, it isn't my permission we need..." he said, trailing off while looking at Christine hopefully

She sighed

"All right, I'll do it. I will sing tomorrow evening."

Mme. Giry smiled and stood up to leave

"Wonderful. So, I'll go back up now,and Christine, you should attend the rehearsal later today if you truly do intend on singing this role"

She nodded "I will"

"Good. So, every thing is in place for tomorrow evening and we better hope it works, for all our sakes." she said before taking her leave

After she was gone, Christine resumed reading her fairy tales and Erik (after taking a quick swig of burgundy that escaped Christine's notice) had tried to compose at his organ, only to find his mind blank and his eyes wandering over to the beauty sitting in front of him. He called over

"Christine?"

She looked up "Yes?'

"Well, since this is so sudden, perhaps you would just like to refresh your memory of the part of Aminta? I mean, I'm sure you know it well already, but just to be sure-"

She came over and he fell silent, grateful he didn't have to keep blabbering like a fool.

"Yes, Erik, I'll rehearse it with you, if you wish"

He nodded and began playing her introduction. She began singing, looking over his shoulder once or twice when she was rarely unsure of a lyric or note. Her voice was utter perfection, high and graceful and clear. She was the true angel of music, not him. He contentidly sighed as he began playing the crescendo. Everything truly was in place. Christine would sing the role created for her, living his dream. Everything would be perfect, and everything that needed to be said was.

If only he could tell Christine his true feelings for her...

* * *

Leave a review if you want a quick update! 


	3. Past the Point of No Return

_**Sweet Seduction**_

_Chapter Three: Past the Point of No Return _

A/N: Okay, hope you like this chap! It's my fave song from the movie/play and I hope my version of it does it justice! Please review and tell me what you think!

* * *

Christine sat down on the floor of the stage, spreading her thin, yellow chiffon skirt over her bare legs, nearly exhausted. After agreeing to perform as Aminta in Erik's opera, she had been thrown into a whirlwind of rehearsals and costumes fittings, practicing and studying her script and all sorts of last minute details. She hoped she didn't look as nervous as she felt. This was the biggest female lead in the show and she'd only agreed to do this two days ago, to the manager's relief and some others (mainly Carlotta's) discontent. Fortunately, she hadn't run into Raoul, who was kept at a distance from her at all times since his spiral down into insanity. She could see him out of the corner of her eye, glaring at her, watching her every move. She didn't believe he'd forgiven her for deserting him in the chapel, and had to hide the smile that threatened to spill over her face when she imagined his fury and disappointment that his genius little plan wouldn't work after all.

Oh, this costume was so uncomfortable, especially the uniquely designed corset, fitted to nearly strangle her and pinch every time she moved, and she soon grew tired of pulling up her shoulder straps that continually fell whenever she moved her arms. Though it was beautiful, it certainly wasn't very comfortable or practical, and the skirt was so ridiculously sheer and flimsy, it threatened to rip every time she walked. Fortunately, the interval in the program was only a few scenes away and then she could collapse for a brief moment in her dressing room.

At least Erik had kept his word. She hadn't seen him lurking about anywhere during the play. Maybe it was all for the best, anyway. The audience really didn't seem to like this play, cringing when the music started and gasping at some of the risque dialogue when they weren't busy staring and gaping at the numerous police officers spread throughout the theater.. Erik would be so disappointed to see that the audience really didn't like it, so maybe everything had worked out after all.

At last, Don Juan finally came onto the stage. She could see a faint black outline as she glanced behind her, and knew Piangi would be approaching her in a moment, to begin their duet.

But, as her Don Juan drew closer, she immediately knew that this was not Piangi.

Oh no. He began singing, and Christine knew, in a sharp instant, that it was him. How many times had that voice sang to her in her dressing room during their lessons? Behind the mirror? At the cemetery? It was Erik. He had broken his word and come to the performance anyway. She was tempted to look around wildly, to find Mme. Giry, but she controlled herself. _NO! Stay in character. You're Aminta, the beautiful Spanish gypsy, being seducing by a mysterious masked man, you shouldn't be glancing around the stage wildly! Focus on him. Only on him_

She then realized with a sickening feeling in her stomach that Raoul's plan may work after all. If anyone but her knew he was here, he'd be captured! She had to control herself. She couldn't let on she knew it was him, but she could tell people were starting to realize that this strange masked man wasn't Piangi. Oh, why did Erik have to be so foolish? He was willingly putting them both in danger!

She concentrated on him, only on him. His hair looked even darker than usual under the spotlights, almost gleaming, and she had never seen him wearing the smooth black mask on his face before. She let her eyes stray downward towards his costume. His body looked very rugged and handsome in Don Juan's costume. It fit him extremely well, outlining his muscular arms and firm legs, the low shirt underneath his tight jacket revealing a glimpse of his smooth chest. He looked extremely handsome.

No! What was she doing? She couldn't let herself be seduced now. Seduced? Why would he possibly seduce her? How could she allow her angel to seduce her? Oh, this was so confusing. His voice. She'd concentrate on his voice. Standing up, she closed her eyes, waiting for him to begin singing the chorus.

_Past the point of no return  
No backward glances  
Our games of make-believe are at an end_

Oh, his voice was so different than the familiar soft voice of her Angel. His voice was loud and powerful, the thrill of performing giving his voice a new-found strength she had never heard before. He pronounced the words with a low, seductive undertone, practically making him and his new voice irresistible. There was an adrenaline she knew from experience could only come from performing urging his voice on now, the passion and fervor rushing out of his throat, giving a new depth to his perfect low voice.

_Past all thought of **"if" **or** "when"  
**No use resisting  
Abandon thought and let the dream descend _

He came towards her, silently, swiftly, drawing closer and closer. She still couldn't believe he had broken his word, but maybe it was worth it. He was beginning to send delightful shivers up her spine. Erik drew closer and closer to her. He felt the swell in the music coming, and he couldn't control himself any longer. He raced over to her, grabbing her neck with one hand and wrapping the other around her waist from behind. Her eyes shut and her arms almost instinctively wrapped themselves around his, feeling his warm, firm body as Erik sang:

_What raging** fire** shall flood the soul ?**  
**What rich desire unlocks its door ?**  
**What sweet seduction lies before us?_

He proceeded to release his arms from her neck and waist, touching his hands to her cheek and mounds of dark,curly hair. He felt her warm body, every sweet inch of her while dragging arms down, past her shoulder, all down her deliciously long, bare arm, finally to her warm, moist hand, finally kissing it. She felt her heart beating fast beneath his touch and knew she would never be able to control her passion as he finished

_Past the point of no return  
The final threshold  
What warm unspoken secrets  
Will we learn?  
Beyond the point of no return _

He watched her as she moved away from him, glancing at him nervously, sending him the same frantic message with her eyes beneath her passion: _What are you doing here? Get Out!_

Well, he knew he had given his word he wouldn't come to the performance, but the temptation grew overwhelming and he couldn't resist. This was his opera. He couldn't bear to miss the restless stir from the audience, watching him, hanging on his every word. And, if he was coming anyway, why not make it a memorable expierence? Piangi wouldn't mind spending the rest of the performance bound up in the broom closet, would he? After all, it was better than ruthlessly murdering him, which was the other option he'd chosen to avoid. He had to come tonight, to see Christine, to hear her angelic voice filled with raging fire and passion as it soared over the notes he had composed for her. More than anything, he wanted her to know his true feelings for her. He had to tell her, and this was as good a time as any.

He watched her, resisting the urge to stare at him. He could tell she was shocked and bewildered he had done this to her, and upset he'd now be captured. Well, she needn't worry her gorgeous little head over those minor details. He'd disappear before the interval, and no one would ever know. Certainly, he could outwit a few dim-witted police officers and a foppish viscount. But he couldn't ignore his longing for her anymore. He needed her, needed to sing with her, to be with her.

He needed to tell her he loved her.

Well, at least now she wasn't looking alarmingly at him anymore. In fact, her eyes looked as if they were...wanting something, most likely mirroring his own as she began the chorus.

_Past the point of no return **  
**No going back now  
Our passion-play has now at last begun _

Her voice was growing stronger now, with more power and volume behind it, truly soaring and rising like an angel's. He wondered if there was any truth behind her scripted words.

_Past all thought of right or wrong  
One final question  
How long should we two wait before we're one _

She sounded almost vulnerable now,the passion and desire dripping off her voice. She knew she wasn't pretending to love her Don Juan anymore now, a fact that both scared and enthralled her. She began ascending up the wooden stairs to the stage bridge as he followed her lead, unable to control her obvious passion which burned as brightly as the flames below her They both heard her voice rising with emotion as she began the climax.

_When will the blood begin to race?  
The sleeping bud **burst** into bloom ?  
When will the flames at last **consume** us_

She listened this unfamiliar voice projecting from her throat, hitting the low notes loudly with a sultry growl she couldn't control emerging from it. Narrowing her eyes, she looked at him suggestively, taking the final step up onto the bridge. He ripped the cloak from his shoulders, casting it aside to the ground in a flourish of black material. They were drawing close to each other now, as both began singing the final chorus

_Past the point of no return  
The final threshold _

Erik couldn't control himself any longer. He grasped Christine's hand, twirling her around slowly under his arm until she was firmly pressed up against his chest. He crossed his arms over her, feeling every beautiful curve and figure of her body. They were both panting with the excitement of that moment and knew there really was no going back now as they finished

_The bridge is crossed  
So stand and watch it burn  
We've passed the point of no return_

He gently grasped her delicate hand in his own, lifting it to her neck and holding it there for a moment. He was in a world all his own. He couldn't believe that he had just performed one of the most emotional songs he'd ever written with the woman he loved in front of a thousand people. But, none of that mattered now. She was here, willingly, up against him, her own heart beating with emotions, faster than his own. Nothing else mattered. This was it. This was his moment, and he needed to tell her he loved her. He didn't care that there were policemen surrounding the stage, waiting to capture him, or that the Vicomte had left his box, or the audience members were all watching him anxiously, or that he had broken his word to her. Time stood still that moment, and the air was heavy with his anticipation and fervor. He had to tell her. He couldn't care less about anything else in the world than the woman here beside him and she needed to know the truth.

He loved her.

Gently caressing his strong hand down her neck, he fingered a lock of her wild, curly hair and began singing in her ear.

_Say you'll share with me  
One love, one lifetime  
Lead me, save me from my solitude _

There was no sweeter sound on earth than his soft, low voice in her ear. The words sounded vaguely familiar to her, but she was too entranced to recall where she had heard them before. She never wanted him to stop singing to her. She was in heaven, a wave of pure ecstasy washing over them both as he continued:

_Say you'll want me  
With you here  
Beside you _

She turned around to face him, so many emotions racing through her mind as she gazed at his desperate, longing face. He grasped her hands in his own. He truly loved her. He needed her. He struggled to keep his voice from breaking with emotion as he pleaded:

_Anywhere you go  
Let me go too_

_Christine that's all I ask of…_

"YOU!" a voice behind them screamed, shocking them both. Before either of them could understand what had happened, Raoul had silently come up behind them, jerking Erik's head back suddenly and ripping off his mask, exposing his wickedly deformed face to all of Paris. Christine screamed

"Raoul, no! How could you!"

but no one heard her as the screams of terror and repulsion from the audience drowned out her small voice.

Erik couldn't believe this. It was his worst nightmare come true. Policemen began running onto the stage, guns drawn. Raoul foolishly tried to hold him back, but he was rewarded with a sharp punch in the stomach, causing him to double over in pain. Erik struggled to think calmly, but it was so difficult, with his emotions racing and the police drawing nearer every second. Though he couldn't believe what he was doing, he needed to keep them distracted somehow, and that was accomplished by cutting the ropes that held the chandelier aloft, sending it raging down into the audience in a swirl of shaking crystals and flashing lights. Just when he thought things couldn't get any worse, Christine's eyes rolled back into her head and she fainted, slumping over as she caught her before she hit the ground. He hoisted her up into his arms, looking around wildly. Suddenly, he knew what to do.

Wasting no time, he furiously kicked the lever to his left, opening up the escape door in the center of the bridge. He ran over to it and jumped, holding onto Christine for dear life as they plunged down into the darkness.

Erik struggled to remain calm and think rationally, but all his thoughts were muddled by panic. His mask had been left back in the Vicomte's greedy hands, so he'd have to go without it for the moment. Christine was still unconscious and lying helplessly in his arms. When they finally reached the safety of his lair, he laid her down for a moment and gently shook her

"Christine! Christine, please wake up"

There was no response. Erik felt sick. He had to get them both of out here before the police and many others would find his lair. The trapdoor hadn't' closed all the way and they would be coming. _First things first,_ he thought. _There's still some time left. Don't panic. Just get another mask on_. He bounded over to his desk, ransacking through the compartments until he found his normal white porcelain mask, fixing it firmly on his face as he strode back over to Christine. He shook her again

"Christine! For Christ's sakes, Christine, you have to wake up! Come on, don't do this to me!"

Oh, she had to wake up! Why did her feminine weakness have to choose this moment to start dominating? He couldn't very well leave the place indiscreetly carrying an unconscious woman in his arms. And they were both still in their stage costumes! Right, like they wouldn't be noticed outside of the Opera house.

Biting his lip, he slapped Christine's face gently. Still no response. He slapped her other cheek, harder this time, hoping to arose her, but she still didn't wake.

He tried to keep from slapping her again. This wasn't working, and he couldn't bear hurting her, even if she couldn't feel anything. He threw off his brown jacket out of frustration, watching it fall off into the lake. Suddenly, he got an idea. When the jacket was completely soaked he picked it up, and wrung it out over Christine's face and chest.

Finally, he got a response. The cold water sent a visible shiver through her body and she sputtered and coughed. Her eyes fluttered open, wildly, looking around in a daze.

"What-what happened? Where am I?"

"Shh, Christine, everything is going to be all right. Do you remember what happened before you fainted?"

He could see her eyes becoming clearer as the realizations hit her and she realized what had happened

"Oh my god! What-how did we-"

He gently placed his hand over her mouth

"Christine, I don't have the time to explain right now, but I promise, I'll tell you everything later"

She nodded

He busied himself , shoving a few necessaries into his worn leather satchel. Christine watched him oddly as she shivered from the cold in his lair

He came back over to her

"Oh, Christine, I'm so sorry. Here, take my cloak, you must be freezing in that thin costume"

She gratefully accepted his heavy wool cloak as he gently bundled it around her. He looked at her. She had an odd expression on her face. What could be wrong? Maybe she-

Oh god. The full realization hit him like a slap in the face. She didn't want to go with him. She probably didn't care for him at all, and he'd just been fooling himself convinced that she did. The look of utter loathing on her face couldn't be any more obvious.

He knelt down beside her, unable to look up into her face

"Christine, I'm sorry. I just assumed-well, after everything that's happened, I thought that you would want to come with me. But, I can see that you don't want too, so, I can't- I wont' force you to come with me. You can just stay down here, it won't be as horrid if they just find you down here alone, you can say whatever you wish about me. I suppose you'll just want to go back to your little Vicomte. After all-"

She silenced him by placing her delicate hand over his mouth. He fell silent at the sweet shock of her touch.

"Erik, what are you trying to say?"

He sighed "Christine, I was far too arrogant, performing and putting us both in danger. The police will be down here any minute and I must leave. I just assumed you would want to come with me, but it's obvious that is the last thing you want, and I don't want to force you into doing anything you're not comfortable with." he finished sadly

She looked down at him

"You really think that?"

He nodded

She gently grasped his hand, pulling him up to stand with her

"Angel, the last thing I want is to be separated from you. An- Erik, can't you see that?"

She stroked her hand down his mask

"I love you"

Suddenly, she kissed him. Leaning in to him, she kissed him with all the passion and heat she had within her. He savored the sweet blend of innocence on her lips, putting his arms around her and kissing her again, tasting the forbidden pleasure he had always dreamed of. She responded by omitting a low, sweet moan from within her as she explored every inch of his mouth with her own

They reluctantly broke apart. Erik looked at her in shock

"Christine, you really want to do this?"

She smiled

"_Anywhere you go, let me go too._ I'm coming with you Angel"

He felt a strange noise come up from within his throat, finally realizing it was a laugh. He hadn't laughed for as long as he could remember. Then again, he had never been this happy before either.

They could both hear the sound of the Vicomte and the mob chanting as they came closer to the lair. Erik grasped Christine's hand tightly in his own

"Are you ready?"

She nodded, before gently pulling his mask off his face. He automatically moved to stop her, but he stayed his hand when she glared at him

"You won't need it any longer. This haunted face holds no horror for me now"

He smiled as she laid it down on the oak table next to his once cherished music box. He motioned to the trap door, carefully opened and she followed him willingly, both eager to begin their new life together.


	4. Apartments, Domestic Demands, Peppermint

_**Sweet Seduction**_

_Chapter Four: Apartments, Domestic Demands, and Peppermints_

A/N: Wow, pretty productive week so far! I've written a new oneshot "Password Unacceptable",updated this fic and (hopefully) Chapter Five of this story will be updated Friday or Saturday! As London Tipton says "Yay me!"

And yeah, I know, unique (and by that I mean)strange chapter title, but it'll all make sense once you start reading.

Start reading ;)

* * *

Erik sat at his desk, marveling over the events of the past week. After Don Juan, he and Christine had rented a room at a small inn out of the city for a little while, to relax, and that same week Erik had found a small apartment in the city, only two streets away from the Opera Populaire. Christine was a little hesitant to move in with him, since it really wasn't right or proper for a lady to do, but after everything that had happened, she decided to overlook it, only for a short while. They were very close friends, after all. 

Almost immediately after moving in, Erik had bought himself a piano to continue composing on and had it moved into the apartment's spare room, which he had now converted into a makeshift study, which was also his bedroom. The apartment only had one main room, spare room, bathroom, and unfortunately, one bedroom. After a sort of awkward discussion (to put it mildly), Erik had decided he'd just sleep in his study to save Christine any further embarrassment over the "proper way to resolve this" and to stop her ridiculous blushing...

Overall, the apartment was wonderful. Not as spacious as his old lair, but cozily comfortable. He wouldn't have really minded living in a shoe box if Christine was there with him. She would be a perfect housewife someday, she was so neat and tidy and pleasant to be around. She was absolutely beautiful no matter what she was doing. She had no idea of this, but on occasion, when he suffered from his usual insomnia, he would sometimes gently open the door to her bedroom and peer at her dreamily. She looked so peaceful and innocent when she was sleeping, a pure vision of heaven. He sometimes wished that he could have the luxury of lying beside her each night, but he knew that was something h could only dream about. He was happy enough last night when he looked in to see that she had kicked off her bed covers and found her shivering from the cold in her thin nightgown. He had tucked her back in, pulling the warm covers up over her body to stop her shivering and for an instant, she had smiled dreamily. That was more than enough to make him happy.

Christine, on the other hand, wasn't so happy as she let on. Of course, she had immediately set about cleaning the apartment, homemaking and every other little thing she could think of to occupy her time, including tidying up Erik's study when he wasn't occupying it to his distaste, but Christine was so upset when she thought he was angry at her for moving his things around, and ever since then, he'd kept silent. Although neither of them let on, they both missed the Opera Populaire terribly and Erik mentally kicked himself about twenty times a time for crashing the beautiful chandelier and setting fire to the place. It had just been an act of momentary panic he spent hours wishing he could reverse, and he was trying to. Unknown to Christine, Erik had quite a fortune stashed away, even with weekly expenses like food, clothing and rent, he still had about four million francs to his name. Almost daily, he was sending money to the Opera Populiare's new manager, Monsieur Georges Beaumont, hoping to speed up the reconstruction and saying the money was simply from "A Musical Angel". He was hoping to God the man wouldn't come looking for him, or trace the money back to him, demanding a name. What would he tell him if he did? That-

" Erik?" Christine called out cheerfully as she let herself in with her key. "Are you here?"

He reluctantly came out of his study, shutting the door behind him. Christine was standing at the table,carrying several bags of groceries from the weekly market and a bolt of cloth. She was dressed in a beautiful sapphire blue gown designed specifically for her figure, and the material gracefully swirled around her like flowing water. Erik almost sighed at the sight of her. Her beauty never ceased to amaze.

"Yes Christine?"

She turned around after setting the cloth down on the table

"Oh, Erik, I just wanted to know if you were still here. I'm sorry if I disturbed you" she said humbly

Even though he was a grown man and a terrifying Opera Ghost, Erik was clueless when it came to how to conduct himself around Christine. Ever since he snapped at her once when she asked him something while he was composing, she'd been walking on eggshells ever since. She thought it was the polite thing to do, seeing as how she was living here on his charity since he mysteriously paid for both their expenses and she shouldn't be rude, since he was normally so kind to her. She thought he seemed a little bit odd lately, as if something was troubling him, but she didn't want to pry. Maybe this behavior was normal for him. He was an artist and a genius, after all, and she didn't really know him that well.

He, on the other hand, desperately wished she wasn't so intimidated by him. He just didn't know how to be familiar or comfortable as he would have liked to be around her. He wasn't used to it, and sometimes just the thought of her touch or her voice when he wasn't prepared for it terrified him. He hadn't really been socially active for about twenty years. But, he desperately wished he could make her happy. He knew she was depressed, because they both couldn't really be seen for now at least. Erik would probably be arrested or worse if people knew his real identity or where he was, and Christine would be the instant subject of the press and all of Paris, with everyone wanting to know about the young starlet's disappearance and why she hadn't come near her notable fiancee, the Vicomte de Changy, since he had yet to make it public she had jilted their engagement. So, she really couldn't leave the apartment more than once a day, and definitely couldn't sing at any Opera House for some time, so there really wasn't much to make her happy. Well, she tried to stay cheerful, for Erik's sake at least. He seemed even more depressed than she did, and she certainly shouldn't be complaining about his hospitality or protection. He was very sweet to her. So, naturally, she'd thrown herself into housekeeping, trying to keep herself busy and her mind occupied. If only-

"Ahem" Erik cleared his throat awkwardly, breaking the silence "No, Christine, you weren't disturbing me at all. I was just finishing up some business I had to attend to"

She smiled "Oh, that's nice."

He looked at the table between them "So, what did you buy?"

She shrugged "Oh, nothing much. Just some food I noticed we were running low on and a bolt of cloth half price at the market."

"What's the cloth for, a new dress?"

"No, silly. A pillow. For you"

"Well, Christine, I-"

"Erik, please. Your bed is a blanket and the floor! Now, you insist that I take the bedroom, and you won't agree to share it and yet, you're sleeping on the floor and it's your apartment! You'll make yourself sick if you don't keep warm. This is very nice material and you can't honestly say a wooden floor is comfortable to sleep on"

He shrugged "Christine, you don't have to do this, I'm fine, really."

She sighed "Erik, I know you've said no before, but please, take the bedroom, I can sleep somewhere else-"

"No, Christine, you're a lady, you need your own space and privacy. I am fine, really, and this is the last time I'm going to argue about it."

"But Erik, I just don't feel right, it's-"

"Mademoiselle, those groceries look very heavy. Allow me to assist you with them" he said, finishing the argument and taking the groceries from her into the kitchen. He started unpacking them and noticed her watching him. He chuckled awkwardly

"Oh, I'm sorry. Would you rather...?"

"No, no, that's all right. Go on, if you want to."

She watched him again for a moment. He was very strong, she'd nearly dropped that bag twice and he was maneuvering it around as if it was weightless. She also noticed how handsome he looked when he wasn't dressed up in his formal suit and simply dressed in trousers and a plain linen shirt. He was almost perfect, and so kind and gentle towards her, such a gentleman. He was so charitable too, letting her stay here with him simply out of kindness. She recalled her words on the night of Don Juan

"I love you" Did she truly feel that way? Well, why would she have said that if she didn't? She knew she loved her angel, as her tutor, but did she love him as a man? Her emotions left her so confused right now. She had never known true love before. Was this was it felt like? Awkward and nervous and embarrassed and wanting, all at once, your emotions constantly engaged in battle with your mind? Your heart ignoring your head? She wanted to love him, but she didn't know whether she really did or not. He hadn't shown many feelings towards her at all. Maybe he didn't love her, and she was just being a foolish and sentimental woman. Maybe he..

She noticed him looking at her oddly. Could he somehow tell what she was feeling?

"I'll ...start working on your pillow" she said hurriedly, grabbing the cloth and awkwardly rushing into her bedroom. Erik released an inward groan. As marvelous a cook and organizer as Christine was, her sewing skills left a lot to be desired. He now realized why most of her dresses were made for her, instead of hand-sewn, for that was just a disaster in itself. He didn't know what oddly shaped lump he was going to have to force his head to lie on to spare her hurt feelings...

He couldn't help it when his thoughts wandered to Christine and her words last week. "I love you." Did she truly mean that? Had she just said it in the heat and confusion of that moment or did she really mean it? Or, did she love him in like, a brotherly way, like family relations? She seemed so nervous around him. Well, he couldn't say he was at ease when she was around either. She was almost a goddess in his eyes, perfect and beautiful and intelligent, with the voice of an angel. He knew he had loved her since he first laid eyes on her, but did she return those feelings? Would he make a fool of himself if he let her know?

Erik snapped out of his thoughts as he felt his body collide harshly with the floor. He cursed quite loudly as he realized he had slipped on some little red and white...things that were covered in plastic and surrounding him. He must have spilled them out of the grocery bag while engaged in his thoughts.

Christine came rushing out as soon as she heard the noise.

"Erik, are you all right?" she asked hurriedly

He nodded, and she could tell he was obviously confused. Imagine her surprise to find the stealthy Phantom of the Opera sprawled out on his back among a flood of individually wrapped candies she had bought at the market. She burst out laughing, clutching over.

He looked at her, failing to find the humor in this until later

"Christine, what the-"

"Peppermints. I..."

She trailed off as he stared at her queerly. She stopped laughing and stared back at him before bending down to begin picking them up.

"Christine, what were-"

"Erik, trust me. Don't ask"


	5. An Evening to Remember Part One

_**Sweet Seduction**_

_Chapter Five: An Evening to Remember-Part One_

A/N: Okay, obviously this chap is a two-parter. It wasn't origanally intended to be, but it got so long I had to split it into two chaps. Let me know WHEN YOU REVIEW if I went a little overboard with the details and descriptions, oh, and if any _**Wicked**_ fans reading this can spot the shamefully obvious line from **_Wicked _**that I threw in the dialogue.

Okay, enjoy

Disclaimer: I do not own the Phantom of the Opera. But I DO own The Producers! No wait, that's Mel Brooks...

* * *

Christine sat in front of the small mirror in her bedroom, rearranging her hair for at least the tenth time. She was so looking forward to tonight, and almost as excited and giddy as a little girl. Erik was absolutely amazing. This afternoon, she was feeling almost more miserable than ever. Even Erik's little mishap with the peppermints yesterday hadn't cheered her up. She missed the Opera House. She missed talking to Meg and the other ballet girls at rehearsals. She missed the fun and anticipation of dressing and preparing for the performance and the chaos backstage during the shows. She missed the thrill and energy of singing for the thousands of audience members. She even missed Madame Giry's sharp scoldings about her dancing and posture! It wasn't that she didn't like her life here with Erik. She'd probably be on the streets if it weren't for his kindness, for she couldn't sing at a rival opera. It was an unspoken rule that leading ladies or the "Prima Donnas" only sang for one opera company, since rivaling companies would never accept a "Prima Donna" from their competitor. So, it was so fortunate that Erik was letting her stay here. She didn't want him to think she wasn't grateful, or that she was unhappy, so she forced a smile and pleasant attitude when he was around, hiding her feelings. 

But, this morning, when she knew Erik was out running an errand and she was all alone, she couldn't hold her tears in any longer. She had fallen onto the sofa and cried and cried. She cried until she thought that she had used up all her tears and then she found she still had many more to shed. Just at that moment, Erik returned from his errand and found her sprawled out on the sofa, her head buried in the cushions, sobbing. He was immediately concerned something was wrong, but she waved off his concerns, shaking her head. She couldn't stop crying. Eventually, he just moved over closer to her and held her against him while the sobs racked her small body, crying into his shirt while he stroked her hair and wondered what she was so upset about. Eventually, she calmed down enough to speak again. He gently tilted her head up towards his

"All finished now?"

She nodded, feeling like a small child

"Good. So, would you like to tell me what's wrong?"

And, finally, she did. She told him how much she missed Meg and Mme. Giry and all her friends. How she missed the performances and singing and everything she loved. And, she was worried. She hadn't heard from anyone after the fire and she thought she must be worrying them horridly. No one knew where she was. They might think she was hurt, or sick, or even dead.

Erik realized with a start that nothing was seriously wrong with Christine, which was a great relief. She was simply homesick and missed her friends and depressed. He had too admit, he had been feeling a little melancholy lately too. Maybe they both needed to get out, just this once and have some fun.

Suddenly, he had a great idea. After comforting Christine a little bit more, he had rushed off with another important "errand" he'd forgotten, leaving Christine to wonder what he was up to. He came back and said nothing the rest of the day, until an hour before dinnertime, he told Christine to change out of her house clothes and find the fanciest dress she owned to wear because they were spending an evening out. She was a bit surprised, but whatever he had in mind, it must be wonderful. And that explained why she was so excited about tonight. She loved surprises, but she wished she knew what Erik was doing or where they were going! They were hundreds of different things she could do with her hair, but she wouldn't know how to fix it since she had no idea how formal it needed to look. Finally, she just decided to give up, pulling a small section of curls back with a glimmering barrette and leaving the rest of her hair in curly waves down around her shoulders. She eyed herself in the mirror, deciding approvingly she didn't look that bad. Maybe just a touch of rogue...

Erik knocked at the door softly

"Christine? Are you ready?"

"Almost there, just putting on the finishing touches"

"May I come in?"

"One moment"

Fluffing out her hair one last time and smoothing down her skirt, she sighed, deciding she was finally ready. She walked over to the door, letting Erik in.

Erik's jaw practically hit the floor when he saw her. She looked absolutely stunning, in a sleeveless red dress that clung to her corseted waist tightly. The layers of thin gauze material that formed her skirt were beautiful, offering the tiniest glimpse of the silhouette of her shapely legs when the light was just right. The dresses train dragged the floor behind her, moving like a small, flowing red river as she walked. Her curly hair was beautifully arranged down around her bare shoulders, and she wore the faintest touch of rogue, bringing out the natural beauty in her flawless skin. He was speechless.

She bit her lip

"You don't like it, do you? Oh, I knew I shouldn't have worn this. It looks awful."

He shook his head, regaining his sense of speech

"Awful? Are you joking? You look utterly gorgeous. I don't... I can't even describe... I don't think I've ever seen anyone look more beautiful. You're perfect."

She smiled "Merci, monsieur. You are too kind. And I must say, you certainly look handsome yourself, monsieur Phantom"

Indeed he did. Attired in his sleek black evening suit with a red rose as his corsage, a wristwatch glittering from beneath his sleeve,his slicked back hair, and the light gleaming off his new white porcelain mask, he looked like a vision of elegance and wealth. He truly looked stunning.

She still had some doubts as she slipped into her high, sparkling red heels and pulled on her white,soft elbow length gloves

"But, Erik, are you sure this is appropriate for what we're doing?"

He nodded "Yes, you have certainly chosen the right ensemble for what awaits us this evening, mademoiselle. Brava"

She smiled coyly "You know, it would have been easier to make the choice if I knew what we were doing"

He chuckled "Oh no you don't! You are not going to force it out of me this early. Besides, why would you want to ruin the surprise?"

She smiled "All right, I promise I'll be a good little girl. But can I at least have a hint?" she pleaded

He shook his head firmly "Absolutely not. This is a surprise"

She shut the door as they both came out into the main room. Erik helped her into her coat, which was unusually heavy for the season. She shrugged it off

"Oh, Erik, this is so heavy for this time of year. It's nearly spring! Wouldn't a shawl be more suitable?"

He shook his head "No, trust me Christine, you are going to be needing that."

She wondered what he could possibly have in mind as he helped her back into it before adjusting his own cloak and hat. He checked his watch and smiled

"Right on time. All right my dear, uh, can you make it down the steps in those heels?"

She smiled playfully at him tossing her curls "Erik, we women were born for these kind of perilous tasks. It shan't be any trouble"

He had to admit, she did have natural poise to climb down four flights of stairs that led from their apartment to the ground floor in a long-trained dress and heels. How were women able to do that?Oh well, nature's mystery. He'd waste his time pondering over those insignificant questions later. Right now, he had bigger and better plans. Here we are Christine" he said, opening the door for her to enter the streets of Paris "Your carriage awaits"

She gasped in awe and excitement, having no idea he meant that literally. Parked on the pavement in front of them was a grand carriage, larger than any she'd ever seen and much more ornately detailed than the simple ones at the Opera House, pulled by two beautiful, strong chestnut mares. Christine turned around to Erik excitedly as he laughed at her childlike wonder.

"I had a feeling you'd like it"

Suddenly, she ran up to him and hugged him tightly, squealing with delight

"Oh, Erik, is this the surprise? Oh, this is wonderful! Thank you ever so much!"

He pretended to be shocked "This measly thing? The surprise. Oh, Christine, you insult me. This is merely the method of transportation"

She was speechless, dividing her time between starring at him and the carriage as he smiled at her childlike wonder. He finally assisted her up into the carriage before pulling himself in, shutting the door tightly behind them and nodding to the driver. He pulled the warm fur blanket onto both of their laps, feeling Christine's small body instinctively snuggling up against his. She hesitated for the briefest moment, before gently laying her head on his shoulder as he held back a sigh of content.

"Oh, Erik, this is perfect. You are so marvelous. I couldn't have imagined anything better than this"

He rolled his eyes "Well one needs adequate transportation if one would just happen to be dining at...oh, what's that little place called? I believe... _La Petite Auberge_." he said innocently

_That_ got Christine's attention. She snapped her head off his shoulder looking at him

"Are you serious?"

"Would I lie?"

"Oh my goodness, Erik, we're dining at _La Petite Auberge_! That's the crème de la crème of Paris restaurants! I've always wanted to go there! But, however did you come across the reservations?"

He smiled mysteriously at her "I have my ways"

She was too delighted to wonder how on Earth he'd gotten reservations or paid for them. She was too fascinated with the glorious sight in front of her. The restaurant stretched almost a city block and had obviously spared no expense in their detailed architecture or illumination. She could see well dressed couples making a entrance as their carriage pulled up. Christine couldn't believe this was really happening to her. Erik stepped out of the carriage once it came to a stop, holding out his arm to assist Christine out of the carriage. She nervously patted her hair down again on top, and adjusted the bodice of her dress a bit.

Erik smiled at her " Don't tell me the Prima Donna of Paris is nervous?" he asked tauntingly

She sighed "Yes. A little"

Finally, she took his arm as he escorted her out of the carriage. She was tempted to glance back as the carriage sped off, but she fought the urge. This was such a fancy restaurant. She hadn't really paid attention to etiquette lessons that much, nor had the reasons or opportunities to need them. What if she made a fool of herself in here?

Erik was amazed that for once, the social status had changed. He was the self-assured, confident person for once, and Christine was the skittish, awkward person for a change. He'd never seen her this shy or nervous before.

"Relax" he whispered in her ear as they approached the grand double doors "It's just a restaurant. Eat, pay, leave, that's all there is to it"

She smiled "I know, I've just never been somewhere like this before. We never ate at restaurants in the ballet"

"Right, I went to restaurants all the time when I wasn't busy being the Phantom of the Opera" he said sarcastically

" I know, I'm just being foolish. But, Erik, all those people are starring at me. Did I not dress appropriately? Is the bodice too..." she broke off, embarrassed. She was about too say "low" when she realized how absurd that sounded when she was asking a man for once instead of Meg or her friends.

He squeezed her arm encouragingly "The bodice is fine, the dress is fabulous, your hair is gorgeous, you're overall beautiful and those women are simply jealous of your perfection. Any other questions?"

She shook her head. Erik always knew how to calm her nerves

"Do you have reservations?" the old man behind a registration desk asked (a pointless and obvious question, for why would one bother coming here if they didn't?).

" Monsieur Erik Destler and Mademoiselle Christine Daae, table for two"

_Ahh_ Christine thought _so he does have a surname. I was wondering_

The old man peered above his spectacles at the two of them "Daae, you said? Mlle. Christine Daae, the opera singer?"

She blushed furiously as Erik nodded

"Well, this is certainly a delight mademoiselle, to see you still among the living. I quite admired your singing, but I thought you had mysteriously disappeared after that last performance, according to the papers" he trailed off suspiciously, glaring at Erik

_Perfect_ Erik thought _Just bloody perfect_. He had been hoping they could enter discreetly without any recognition from Christine's admirers or the press. Apparently not if this old geiser had anything to say about it.

Before he could say anything, Christine cut him off

"Well, monsieur, thank you for the compliment, but you shouldn't believe everything you read. I'm quite well,but, would you do me a personal favor?" she asked batting her eyelashes

He nodded "Anything for you, mademoiselle"

"Could you not tell anyone we're here, please? We were just hoping to have a quiet evening away from the press or any fans. I'm sure you can imagine how exhausting it must be"

He nodded "Not a word, mademoiselle, not a word"

She flashed him a grateful smile as they went in "Merci, monsieur"

Erik was stunned. He was about to warn her that they really shouldn't be seen a lot, since people were still marveling over her disappearance and the Phantom, but apparently, she felt the same way he did.

He watched her reaction as they entered, feeling a similar rush of awe and excitement at the brilliantly designed and exquisite restaurant. It truly was breathtaking and had a majestic sort of presence even comparable to the Opera House with four stories and beautifully set tables. The place was alive with the soft hum of chatter and laughter from the diners, dressed in all their exquisite finery glittering under the crystal chandeliers while string quartets played quietly in the background. Christine gasped

"Oh Erik, this is so much more beautiful than I ever imagined. Thank you"

At that moment, a unformed server approached them

"Madame, monsieur"

"Mademoiselle" Erik corrected quickly, knowing Christine was blushing without even looking over at her

"My apologies then. _Mademoiselle_, Monsieur, welcome to _La Petite Auberge_. We hope you shall enjoy your dining expierence here tonight. Allow me to show you to your seats"

Christine could hardly contain her excitement as she followed Erik up the two flights of stairs to their table. When they were finally seated, she looked at Erik, surprised to see that he was starring at something behind her. She turned around, and was quite shocked to see two men sitting at a table in a far corner of the restaurant. The shock was that while one man was only average in looks and physical stature, the man across from him looked exactly like Raoul. _No, it can't be him_ Christine thought quickly _it's just my imagination again. But, if it's only my imagination, then why is Erik starring at him too?_ She thought uneasily

"Erik?" she said

He forced his attention to Christine, who was looking at him oddly

"Oh, I'm sorry, Christine, I thought I saw...well, never mind. So, have you decided on your entree yet?" he asked brightly

They both looked at their menus for awhile, debating over the delicious looking choices. Christine eyed the prices uneasily. Everything was very expensive, but Erik didn't seem to be bothered by that, telling her to order whatever she'd like when the waiter came to take their orders. So, she did.

It was a very pleasant evening. Christine couldn't remember having such a wonderful time with anyone before. The food was absolutely exquisite and practically melted in her mouth, but she enjoyed her conversations with Erik even more. They laughed over fond memories of the Opera House and her singing lessons and recalled wonderful experiences they'd shared. Christine even shared a few of her father's fairy tales she recalled fondly from her childhood. While they were both enjoying their delicious chocolate deserts, Erik reached across the table and gently took Christine's hand

"Christine?"

"Yes, Erik?"

"Are you...happy? I mean, staying with me and everything?"

"Yes, of course. You're a wonderful man, Erik."

"And your...feelings towards me haven't... changed, have they?"

"Well, I'm not sure, I mean,I suppose maybe they have. You've become a very good friend. Is that what you mean?"

"Yes I mean.. I just wanted to know how you felt. Is there anything you might still want that you make you happier"

She forced her voice to stay even and calm while answering

"No. I couldn't be happier"

Erik gave an inward sigh as he felt the slight bulge of the jewelry case in his pocket. Maybe she didn't feel the same towards him as he did towards her. Maybe he was rushing things. Maybe he was just holding onto empty hopes again.

Well, he'd never know if he didn't ask.

As the evening came to an end, he paid the check, helped Christine back into her warm coat ad escorted her back out to the carriage he had waiting. Once they were both settled inside, Christine felt her emotions overwhelm her. She truly could be happier. There was only one thing that would make her life complete right now, but she doubted Erik knew that. She doubted he even shared her feelings.

Well, she'd never know if she didn't try.

As the carriage settled into motion, she leaned over across the seat and gently draped her arms behind his neck. Before she let herself become nervous and shy again, she did it. She kissed him and instantly felt all her apprehensions and worries melt away. He didn't seem to mind, or feel awkward. Maybe he did share her feelings. She broke her lips away from his for a second, only to find him kissing her for a second time. He savored the sweet feeling of her lips on his, wanting him, needing him. He pulled off her gloves, one finger at a time, feeling the fine leather slide off her even smoother skin. She gently slid her fingers down his mask, wondering whether she could remove it or not, when she remembered what happened last time an quickly decided against it. Erik leaned back against the locked door, groaning softly with pleasure as she ran her fingers through his hair...

The driver cleared his throat rather loudly, alerting the two lovebirds that they had arrived at their destination. They broke apart, rather flustered as Christine retrieved her gloves and coat off the floor, hurriedly pulling them back on, and Erik smoothed his messy hair back into place. Christine sighed happily

"Thank you for the evening out, Erik. It was wonderful"

He looked at her

"My dear, it isn't over yet. It's just beginning"

He escorted her out of the carriage again, and she felt the cool, nipping Paris night air cutting through her thick jacket. But she forgot the cold as soon as she saw the magnificent site looming before her eyes, with Erik grasping her hand

"Erik, what are we...?"

"Come on Christine. We're going all the way to the top.

Literally"


	6. An Evening to Remember Part Two

_**Sweet Seduction**_

_Chapter Six: An Evening to Remember-Part Two_

A/N: Thanks for the reviews! In case any Wicked fans were stumped the line was Christine's/Glinda's "No, I couldn't be happier" from "Thank Goodness" in Wicked. O.K., getting off track here. Here's the second part to the shamelessly fluffy story, all your questions will be answered.

Well, they should be, and if they're not, PLEASE leave a review anyway!

Disclaimer: O.K., I don't own Phantom or The Producers, but I DO own Wicked! No wait, that isn't right either

* * *

Erik felt the familiar rush of adrenaline that always accompanied his fascination with heights. Although tonight, Christine was probably more excited than he was, which she had every right to be. After their dinner at La Petite Auberge and their not so silent displays of affection in the backseat of the carriage, the carriage had immediately departed for the Champ de Mars, allowing for Erik and Christine's visit to the brand new monument, the Eiffel Tower. As if the magnificent sight of the beautiful tower illuminated by thousands of lights overlooking the Seine wasn't enough, Erik informed Christine they would be going to the very top. He watched her eyes wildly darting around at all the sights and views she could see from the new elevator they were riding in. He, strangely, didn't care about the view or the heights at this moment. All he cared about was the small jewelry case in his pocket. It held a beautiful engagement ring Erik had treasured ever since the Masquerade Ball, when he had taken it from Christine's necklace as a rather personal souvenir. It was now kept safely in a velvet case, waiting to be opened at the top of the Eiffel Tower. Erik was proposing to her, tonight. He knew the time was perfect. Christine must have feelings for him. She had to love him, didn't she? Why else would she have agreed to stay with him and kiss him? Why would she have said it so long ago if she didn't mean it?

He dreaded and anticipated going to the top. He had to propose to her up there. Besides, he knew it had worked before. Christine accepted Raoul's proposal at the roof of the Opera Populaire. He was taking her to the top of the Eiffel Tower! Then again, if she didn't care for him that way, it wouldn't matter where he asked her, she'd still refuse him. But, what if he was fooling himself? She didn't care for him that way did she? But, what else could explain her behavior in the carriage? What if she really did love him? Oh, he wished this blasted contraption would arrive at the top already so he could ask her and find out, once and for all!

Finally, as if granting his mental wish, the elevator stopped and let them out onto the top floor of the Eiffel Tower. They both felt the nipping cold evening air rushing in as the elevator doors open. Erik's worries about proposing momentarily vanished as he and Christine gazed out at the splendor of Paris at night. Golden lights blazing all over the city, the maze of cobblestone streets in a darkened mist, the carriages and people far below them scurrying about looked like little ants. They could even see the remains of the Opera Populaire. Some of Garnier's brilliant golden architecture that hadn't been burned in the fire still stood, majestic and proud.

Christine giggled "I feel like a bird up here, with the entire city beneath us"

She walked over to the railing edge and rested her hands on top of the iron framework, sighing dreamily "Oh Erik, this is too good to be true. It's so enchanting up here. I never thought I'd see anything like this. Thank you"

He walked over to her, laying his hands lightly over her own " I agree, this is quite a view. It's almost magical"

She looked over at the distant figure of the Opera house. "I've never seen anything more beautiful than this city at night"

"Oh, truly? I have" Erik said nonchalantly

She turned around to face him

"You have? What on earth could be more beautiful than this?"

"The woman in front of me" he whispered in her ear as she blushed. He gently took her hand, leading her over to the other side, still gazing at the brilliantly glowing lights beneath them. She began looking out over the city again, but her interest didn't lie in the glowing city lights beneath her.

She felt the familiar, comforting feeling she always felt as Erik gently hugged her from behind. He wrapped his long arms around her own, trailing a few soft, light kisses down her neck. He exhaled lightly. It was time.

He gently twirled her around, out of his arms and looked at her, standing before him. She was the picture of innocence and truly looked like an angel with the lights of Paris glowing from behind her, illuminating her soft curls and radiant skin.

"Christine" he began, before clearing his throat. His voice sounded unsteady, even to his own ears. Well, this was it. No going back now

"I, uh, I brought you here tonight because, well, I needed to ask you a very important question."

"Yes?" she asked softly.

"Christine, I've known you for almost your entire life and I've always known that I loved you, since the moment I first heard you sing. But, you always saw me, loved me, as an angel. Not a man, and Christine, I need to know tonight if you truly do love me. I have always loved you and I always will. I cannot begin to describe how much I love you and care for you. I only want you to be happy and I wonder if you would be happy with me. You're a beautiful, kind, caring, intelligent, wonderful girl-woman, and I truly don't deserve you, but I can't help but love you."

She felt her heart melt at his words. He really did love her! All her hidden feelings she thought he wouldn't understand, he had shared, all this time. She gasped softly as Erik moved closer to her, running a hand down her smooth cheek and he began singing softly:

_Say you'll share with me  
One love, one lifetime  
Lead me, save me from my solitude _

_Say you'll want me  
With you here  
Beside you  
Anywhere you go  
Let me go too  
Christine that's all I ask of…_

Before he could sing the final note, Christine had kissed him. She had thrown her arms around his neck and kissed him, the feelings of longing and love she had hidden for so long pouring out of her soul. She kissed him, savoring every small detail of that magical moment. He suddenly broke apart, almost wanting to laugh at her bewildered expression.

"Christine, forgive me, but I have to ask"

Letting go of her hands, he knelt before her on one knee, removing a small black case from his pocket

"Christine, I have loved you for so long, and I only hope you can return that love. That's all I ask of you. Christine, well, Christine

_You alone can make my song take flight_

_Please help me make the music of the night_

He snapped open the case, revealing the small, glittering diamond ring he had taken from her so long ago. She gasped softly, realizing at last that this was what she had wanted, imagined, dreamed of for so long.

"Christine Daae, will you marry me?"

And although this was probably the most important decision of her life, Christine had no thoughts or doubts in her mind as she replied joyously

"Oh Erik yes!"

He felt his body go numb for a brief moment. Did that really happen? Had she agreed?

"What did you say?" he asked in a momentary daze

"Erik, I said yes!" she squealed happily

And again, he felt a triumphant laugh emerging as she squealed with delight while he stood up. He gently placed the ring on her finger, their hearts both rapidly pacing, almost as one. She gazed at the glittering jewel on her finger, knowing that this nor anything else could ever compare to the worth of her true love. He picked Christine up and swung her around gaily for a moment, neither of them thinking about anything else but each other and the joy they held in that moment, both eagerly anticipating the many more happy times to come.

* * *

A/N 2: Yes, I know I've written in a major anancharisim in this chapter, since it's 1871 and the Eiffel Tower wasn't completed until 1889. It's only nineteen years, nothing that unforgivable and besides, it was a very romantic edition, non? -sighs dreamily- So, please don't flame, since I know I put that in there, please pardon me and if it bugged anyone that much, mention it in the reviews. Once again, please review and I'll try to speed up the next fluff chapter! 


	7. Guess Who's Coming To Dinner

**_Sweet Seduction_**

_Chapter Seven: Guess Who's Coming to Dinner_

Erik shut the door behind him, calling out "Christine I'm back". He threw his keys on the table and removed his jacket. It had been two weeks since he'd proposed, and he loved the feeling of walking in the door to his loving fiancée, something he would have never dared to hope for a few years ago. He just hoped Christine wasn't going to murder him after he told her this. He had been down to the Opera House that morning and Monsieur Beaumont had finally met the mysterious angel that had been sending him money for the Opera House's reconstruction. Erik was pleased to discover he was a rather literate, polite man, very easy-going and witty too, unlike the two twittering idiot managers the Opera had previously housed. Monsieur Beaumont even had some stage expierence too. He was a comical baritone and had performed in a few touring operas years before. The two men had enjoyed their conversation so much, Erik suggested they continue at his place and invited the man to dinner. He only hoped Christine wouldn't mind a few surprises.

She emerged from the kitchen, tucking loose strands of hair back into place. "Oh, good, you're home" she said cheerfully. She hoped he was in a good mood, for she had some news too.

He swept her up and whirled her around the kitchen, ignoring her weak protests. He set her back down and pecked a swift kiss on her lips before hanging up his coat. God, it felt great to finally be able to kiss her without any awkward thoughts or hesitations. She didn't seem to mind it too much either.

She took a deep breath. Better to get this over with

"Erik, uh...how was your day?"

"Fine, just fine. Yours?"

"Oh it was great. I fixed that collar on one of your shirts, and I'm just getting started on dinner, oh, and uh... I stopped by the Opera House too" she exhaled in one bright, perky rush, hoping he didn't pick up on that last bit.

"What was that?"

"Oh, I stopped by the Opera House this morning. I got, you know, a little bored. Sorry I forgot to tell you earlier. The construction sure is progressing. Oh, and I ran into Meg and Madame Giry. You'll never believe this"

"What?" he asked, half-listening to her conversation

"Meg has a suitor!" she squealed "She met him last week at the ballet, of course. He's a dancer too! And, of all things, he was in _Il Muto_, in that little country ballet they did at Act Three. I couldn't believe Meg hadn't met him before, but she realized after they started talking that they'd met before, so I suppose it wasn't really their first meeting, but it's still so romantic. His name is Jacques Chauder and he's only two years older than her. They've just met and they have already started courting! I'm so happy for her. And, I couldn't resist myself. I invited Meg, Mme. Giry and Jacques to dinner tonight. I hope you don't mind, do you Erik? Just for tonight?" she asked innocently, batting her eyelashes

He laughed "Well, who could say no to that face?" he asked, sliding his arm around her waist and trailing soft kisses down her neck.

She moaned "Erik, stop it! I'll never get anything done if you start that already!" she scolded

He sighed "All right. I suppose I'd better leave you alone if we want our guests to have any food tonight. Speaking of which, I,uh, invited someone to dinner too. Hope you won't mind cooking for six"

"Oh Erik, really? Who is it?"

"Monsieur Beaumont. He's a very nice man. We had quite an enjoyable conversation, and I hated to cut it short, so I invited him to dinner tonight."

"Oh, that's wonderful you made a new friend. What does he do?"

"He's uh"- Erik coughed, saying the rest in a low, hurried voice, hoping Christine wouldn't catch it - "he's the new manager of the Opera Populaire"

She dropped the spoon she was holding "Oh, Erik, the _manager_? How did you run into him?"

"Well, dear, I just happened to be at the Opera House this morning too."

"Doing what? Why were you there, Erik? Don't you know how dangerous that is? You could still be caught and sent to prison!"

"For _what_?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe blackmailing the managers? Murdering Buquet? Crashing the opera _and_ the chandelier and killing more people, need I go on?" she asked exasperated

"Christine, I'm sorry. But please, this is the chance for a fresh start! This guy doesn't even know who I am, or who I used to be. He has no idea I was the Phantom of the Opera! He just wanted to finally meet me since I was sending so much money anonymously for the reconstruction and thus far I'm just plain old Erik Destler to him."

"And how did you explain the mask?" she asked, gesturing to the ever-present white mask on his face

"He didn't ask"

She looked at him suspiciously

"Christine, I am serious, he did not ask! He didn't seem like one to pry and I didn't feel any explanation was necessary. Come on, do you really think I would be that reckless? I am not going to reveal myself as anything but Erik Destler and I have no intention of ever revealing myself as anything but Erik Destler. Okay?"

She sighed "I suppose. I'm sorry for doubting you, it's just, I don't want to see you making some stupid mistake that could hurt us both if it was preventable, but you obviously know what you're doing"

He smiled "Thank you. And, I give you my word, if I misbehave at all, you can punish me anyway you like "

"_Anyway_?" she asked mischeviously

"Mm-hm. _After_ dinner though"

Christine smiled wickedly, picking up her wooden spoon and whacking him with it, giggling afterwards. He grunted, getting that fiery look in his eyes again

"I said _after _dinner, Christine!" he growled. She giggled and the next twenty minutes was spent with the pair chasing each other childishly around the apartment, laughing and screaming the entire time, until they both fell exhausted onto the couch and (of course) kissed and made up.

When that display was finished, they were both very tired, needless to say, and Christine transformed into a whirlwind of gourmet cooking that afternoon (with the occasional help from Erik, of course)

* * *

Christine hastily got herself into a simple, blue dress, added a small broach, put her hair up into a coil and fixed her makeup. Erik just combed back his hair and slid into a different jacket, so of course he was ready about twenty minutes earlier than his wife. Someone finally knocked on their door and Erik was just about to answer it when Christine came rushing out and just about knocked Erik over trying to get to the door first. She flashed him an apologetic grin before answering the door to reveal Meg, Mme. Giry and a young man Erik presumed to be Meg's suitor. 

Christine let out a little squeal and hugged Meg tightly for the second time that day, whispering in her ear "Oh Meg, he's so handsome! You made such a great catch!"

Meg laughed "I did, didn't I? Oh Christine, he's so perfect. He's polite and thoughtful and very smart too!"

"Ahem" Mme. Giry cleared her throat expectantly at Meg, gesturing towards Jacques who was standing quite awkwardly in the doorway "Meg Giry, where are your manners?"

She blushed "I'm sorry Mother. Ahem. Christine, may I present Monsieur Chauder, my new suitor. And Jacques, this is my best friend Mademoiselle Christine Daae"

"A pleasure to finally meet you monsieur" Christine asked politely as Jacques kissed her hand briefly

"The pleasure is all mine, Mademoiselle. What a charming home you have"

"Merci, monsieur"

Erik came up behind her suddenly

"And Jacques, this is Christine's, uh..." Meg trailed off awkwardly while Christine hastily finished for her

"This is my friend, Erik Destler. Erik, this is Monsieur Chauder"

"How do you do sir?" Jacques asked formally

"Pleased to make your acquittance" Erik said politely. The man had quite a firm grip and Erik could see he had the well toned, slim body of a dancer and a kind, quiet manner. No wonder he and little Giry were perfect for each other.

Mme. Giry stepped in the doorway once the introductions had been

"Erik, Christine, thank you for the invitation. This is quite a lovely little apartment. About how long have you both been here?" she asked, directed at Erik suspiciously

"About a month. Don't worry Marie, we're doing fine." he said

Everyone settled down on the various pieces of furniture in the living room while Meg followed Christine in to the kitchen to help with dinner, gushing about Jacques the entire time

"And he's actually been to a university! Can you believe that? He likes literature but he enjoyed dancing even more so he quit a year before his graduation and became a background dancer for the Opera Ballet, although he doesn't just dance at the Opera House, he dances at all the local operas and ballets around here, basically wherever there's a position available. And did I tell you-"

"Meg, Meg calm down! I don't think there's anything you haven't told me about Jacques so far, but I agree, he does sound perfect. You two were practically meant to be"

"So..." Meg said inquisitively

"So what?"

"So what about you and Erik, huh? What has happened between you two? And why did you decided to jilt Raoul like that? Everyone's talking about it. You really didn't tell me all that much this morning"

Christine smiled. Meg had always been such a gossip even when they were children. She turned around, salting the fish

"Meg, nothing has really happened. And Raoul, we just...I just couldn't see him anymore. It is kind of complicated, to put it mildly"

"But Christine, I'm your best friend! You know you can tell me anything"

She sighed "Well-"

At that moment, Erik entered, and the kitchen fell silent. He smiled awkwardly as Meg made some hasty excuse to leave. He laughed and walked over to Christine

"Does she know we're engaged yet?"

"No, I thought we might surprise Meg and everyone else after dinner."

"You didn't tell her?"

"I haven't gotten around to it yet. Trust me, she'll find out even if we don't tell her"

He grimaced "Please Christine, I am begging you, do not make me sit next to Jacques at dinner"

She turned around surprised "Why? He seems nice enough"

"Oh, of course he's nice enough, but he never shuts up. He was talking my ear off out there. No wonder he and Meg are courting"

Christine slapped his arm lightly "Stop it, they might hear you. By the way, isn't Monsieur Beaumont here yet? We're almost ready to start serving"

"No, he hasn't arrived yet. I can't imagine what's keeping him"

At that precise moment, they heard the door shut and Erik heard Meg and Jacques finally fall silent and Georges' voice stutter "Oh, forgive me, I must have the wrong apartment. Sorry"

He and Christine both came out of the kitchen area

"Hey Georges, wait a moment. You're in the right place" Erik called out

Georges smiled "Ah, Erik, there you are. I was afraid I'd interrupted someone else's dinner" he chuckled

"No, you have the right place. Christine and I were in the kitchen. Sorry about that. Everyone, this is Monsieur Georges Beaumont, the new manager of the Opera Populaire. He'll be joining us for dinner tonight"

After the proper introductions were made, everyone settled down to begin eating. It was a little difficult to seat six people at Erik and Christine's small table, but they managed to squeeze everyone in with Erik at the head between Christine and Georges. Mme. Giry sat down gracefully next to Georges and Meg sat in between her mother and Jacques of course. The conversations soon picked up quickly, with Meg and Jacques chattering away in there own little world, Erik and Georges eagerly discussing new additions to the Opera House with some insights from Mme. Giry and Christine constantly serving all the excellent dishes she'd cooked and listening in on the snatches of conversations.

"Well, Erik, the entire third wing balcony was destroyed, so that will need to be completely furnished. Or do you think we should just expand the second wing balcony by twenty feet to compensate and only sell four boxes for the season?"

"Meg, do you enjoy _Swan Lake_? The Anthem Theater is considering it for next season and, if your mother consents, maybe you could come with me to the next audition? There's an open call for background dancers. Maybe we could be in it together?"

"Yes, thank you Jacques, I would love to"

"Monsieur Beaumont-"

"Please, Mme. Giry call me Georges"

"Well then Georges, you must call me Marie. As I was saying , forgive me, but how much do you estimate it will cost for the entire refurnishing? Do you think the opera House will be ready for the fall season?"

Christine finally sat down and when there as a break in the conversation, turned to Monsieur Beaumont

"So, monsieur, what else did you do today, besides the chat with Erik? Anything interesting?"

He laughed "That's just a female polite translation for 'Why were you late', isn't it?"

She blushed and saw Erik smirk, but suddenly felt him stiffen beside her when Georges brought up the one topic Erik had hoped to avoid

"Actually, I was late for dinner, (which I must say is delicious Mlle. Daae, delicious) because I was, forgive me ladies, at the horse races this afternoon. You won't believe the conversation I had."

"With whom?" Mme. Giry asked, suddenly interested

"Some young fellow I was betting against, named Gaston Leroux. He's quite the rich man, let me assure you, dare I say richer than our former patron Monsieur de Changy. Anyway, Monsieur Leroux has just inherited thirty million francs, but I bet the way he's going he'll lose it within the month!So, we got to talking and you know he actually wants to be a journalist?"

"Really?" Jacques asked

"Yes, he's working on publishing a few articles and he's actually gotten an idea for a new novel that concerns our Opera House. He said it was inspired by the recent chandelier crash. It's to be called 'The Phantom of the Opera' of all the absurd things. Can you imagine? 'The Phantom of the Opera' It is free advertising, I'll admit, and the young fellow is quite ambitious, but can you imagine anyone actually buying that nonsense?"

"No" Christine responded. "I'm not sure I can" She could feel Erik relax a little bit as Mme. Giry and Meg fought to suppress a laugh. Only Jacques had no idea how ironic the conversation was.

Eventually, the dinner was almost over and Christine felt a tiny stab of disappointment. This evening had been so much fun and reminded her how much she missed the old days at the Opera House. Suddenly, she realized, she had yet to the good news. She whispered to Erik and he grinned. As soon as the after-dinner wine was served, he gently clinked his fork against his glass and the chatter suddenly ceased. He cleared his throat, he and Christine standing up

"Well, uh, thank you everyone for coming tonight. And, Christine and I are both very sorry for keeping you in suspense, but we have some good news we want to share with everyone-"

Before he could say another word, Christine squealed softly with delight, clapping her hands and announcing

"We're going to be married!"

After that, the rest of the evening was a blur of congratulations and toasts to the engaged couple. Finally, the men adjourned to Erik's study with their drinks so Erik could show them a few building plans and compositions and Christine, Mme. Giry and Meg began cleaning up.

Meg sighed "Oh Christine, this is so wonderful! You're going to be married! To the Phantom of the Opera!" she softly squealed

Christine shushed her "Meg, quiet! Georges doesn't know about Erik's past and we don't inform of telling him"

"Oh, I'm sorry Christine. But just think about it :you're engaged, I' m courting and who knows? Maybe Jacques and I will be-"

"Meg Giry, I hope you're not assuming anything like that so soon. You and monsieur Chauder are courters and you're not spending any time unchaperoned for at least another year or so. And even so, why are you entertaining these foolish notions when there's work to be done?" Mme. Giry cut in, sneaking into the girl's conversations

Meg grumbled as soon as her mother was out of earshot

"Then again, with my strict Maman, I'll most likely end up an old maid!"

* * *

When the evening was finally over, all the guests left, saying the goodbyes and compliments accompanied by any good-mannered people after a social event. Georges and Erik had made plans for a meeting tomorrow, and meg might stop by again. When Christine thought everyone was gone, she went in to ready herself for bed. Mme. Giry caught Erik before he went into the bedroom 

"Erik" she hissed quietly. He turned around

"Marie? What are you still doing here? Something wrong, or is this another ridiculous 'chaperoning' attempt"

"Erik, please, I need to tell you something. Meg and Jacques are waiting for me in the cab"

"Hey, that Jacques seems like a really nice guy. Not a half-bad fellow for little Meg's suitor. When is he planning on proposing?"

She gave him a lethal stare "Erik, please don't joke about this, my heart can't take it. Meg's lucky I haven't killed either of them yet."

"I see"

"Please, I need to tell you something. I didn't want to announce it at dinner, or in front of Christine, but I thought you needed to know."

"What is it?"

"I heard today that they're going to have Raoul committed to an insane asylum. His brother demands it. Apparently, someone else can see he's gone crazy and took some action. He'll be locked up by the end of the week for a long, long, time. Thought you may like to know. Even money can't change some things"

He smirked " Just about everything, Marie. Just about everything."

She sighed "Well, I'll leave now, I just wanted to inform you but please, keep it quiet. Of course it'll be in the headlines in a week or so, but just don't let Christine know quite yet. She still might have old feelings for him, and she can't bear to see anyone upset or hurt, even if they've hurt her"

He sighed once he knew Marie was gone "Don't I know it, Marie. Don't I know"


	8. Devious Plans

_**Sweet Seduction**_

_Chapter Eight: Devious Plans_

A/N: Sorry, this is the first chap not to feature E/C -sigh- I know, not what you guys want, but hey, the other characters matter somewhat don't they?

Well,maybe not this one. I know it's short, but it's all I could manage, since I had to spend the week volunteering at Bible School trying to teach four year olds church songs -sigh-. But please ignore my rants and try to enjoy the chap anyway

* * *

Raoul angrily paced his bedroom. This was outrageous! His own brother demanding he be locked up in an asylum! Did he truly think he was insane? Was really he insane? No, of course not! This was ridiculous 

"I'll show them" he muttered angrily. Even though he had all the money and fine things in the world, they couldn't buy him what he truly wanted.

But he'd sure as hell try to buy it anyway.

He looked at the letter delivered this afternoon. Even if he was being forced into the asylum, he could still control her, influence her decisions. He might not be able to flee the higher authority by leaving France (his father, obviously pressured by his other _sane_ son had cut off Raoul's money and inheritance for the time being and his profile was locked in strict border control, preventing him from even fleeing to the country!) But the man Raoul had hired for this job would be perfect and she would soon be his once again. He wasn't going to lose his true love to some demented Phantom!

It was all set. This evening, his life would begin again. She would surely plead for his release in a few days, if this man did his job. She wouldn't belong to that Phantom anymore. She would belong to him, the Vicomte de Changy, and become his loving, adoring wife as they had planned. As it should be. She would be happier with him anyway. She just didn't realize it yet. But she would, in time.

Raoul hastily grabbed a pen and parchment and began scribbling down a reply. He included a few more specifics the man would need for his assignment, a few simple instructions, and a few more francs to ensure his silence before Raoul angrily grabbed the brandy bottle, gulping it down as he did every night before his fits came and he finally fell into a deep, drunken stupor, only interrupted by the occasional visions of her. He groaned with imaginary pleasure in his sleep. She would be his soon enough.

She would finally belong to him.


	9. Little Lottie

_**Sweet Seduction**_

_Chapter Nine: Little Lottie_

Erik settled comfortably against Christine on the couch, listening to the raging storm outside. They had awoken to the gentle patter of rain on their windows this morning, and thought nothing of it. The sky had been looking a little dark after their dinner last night, which was just a warning of a storm approaching. Once again, it was almost springtime, and that meant rain, rain and more rain. Both of them had just stayed inside the entire day, Erik composing and Christine doing...whatever she could keep herself busy with. Erik's meeting with Georges had been cancelled, and now he wasn't sure how much reconstruction would be delayed since the Opera House currently had no roof. But, he'd worry about that later. Tomorrow maybe. Right now he just wanted to relax and spend a quiet, comfortable evening with his soon-to-be-wife. They were both on the couch, listening to Christine read aloud from her storybook in front of the blazing fire and of course, both sucking on peppermints from the endless supply Erik _hadn't_ fallen on.

He loved listening to the gentle rise and fall of her voice as she read. Sometimes, when coming across poems or musical parts in the stories, she would sing them to him, leaving Erik in pure heaven. Christine enjoyed leaning against his warm body, smelling the subtle little hint of cologne he always wore as she read. Eventually, they came to a dull passage in the story that couldn't succeed in holding either of their attention. Erik began softly twirling his fingers around her hair and she sighed. He ran his hands down her body, trailing soft kisses down her neck and small arms. Christine let th book drop to the floor and slid her fingers through his hair slowly, kissing him. They were so involved with their rather adolescent displays of passion, they didn't notice there was a knock at their door until it turned into a constant pounding. Erik and Christine immediately broke apart, looking up

"Who could that be?" Erik wondered aloud, rather annoyed at the interruption.

Christine stood up, scurrying over to the door. She opened it to reveal a soaking wet man, nearly taller than Erik, with dark brown hair and a face she found oddly familiar.

"Yes?" she asked politely "May I help you?"

"Mademoiselle" he rasped before clearing his throat. By this time, Erik had come up protectively behind Christine, anxious to know why this stranger was at their apartment.

"Mademoiselle, I am so terribly, terribly sorry to impose like this, but may I come in for a few moments? Just to dry off for a moment by the fire?"

She looked at Erik oddly, unsure how to answer. Erik was just as baffled by the stranger's arrival and requests as she was, and he wasn't a very trusting person. Christine shrugged. The poor man looked very tired and he was soaked to the bone. He'd catch sick in no time, and it wouldn't hurt to show some hospitality

"Of course, Monsieur, come in, come in." she said, ushering in him towards the couch. Erik shut the door behind him, glancing at Christine. She shrugged.

The man sat down on the couch awkwardly, almost reluctant to ruin the beautiful furniture by getting it wet. Christine fetched him a towel and he wrapped it around his body gratefully, warming his hands by the fire

"Oh, thank you so much Mademoiselle. You are too kind. I really appreciate this. Thank you"

She smiled, sitting down next to Erik "That's all right monsieur. You looked very... uncomfortable" she offered weakly

He smoothed his curly hair back and Christine snatched a moment to study his face. He looked to be in his late-forties, early fifties. He had a well-toned body, very lean and tall, very well built. His aged face still held some hints of kindness. What she noticed immediately were his hands and his neck. Very long and flexible fingers with callouses on the ends, and the indented mark bellow his chin, often acquired by violin players from the long hours of steadying their bow in similar spots. He looked almost like...no, it couldn't be him. There was no point in getting her hopes up.

"So" Christine said cheerfully "Would you like some coffee, monsieur?"

"Oh, no, mademoiselle, please don't go to any trouble for me, this is far too much already. Thank you anyway"

"No, it's no trouble at all. I insist. You need something warm" she said, hurrying up to the kitchen. Erik tugged at his collar awkwardly. He knew men were supposed to be the lucky ones when it came to gender, but he truly thought women had it better. Whenever they felt awkward or strange or needed to be alone, they could just run away to the kitchen and use their domestic duties as an excuse, always leaving the men to these awkward confrontations. He was silently cursing Christine right now for letting this man in.

"So" he said "Uh, monsieur, I don't believe we've met. I'm Erik Destler"

"Gustave" he said, shaking his hand. Erik looked at him oddly

"Is there a, uh, last name that goes with that?"

He chuckled awkwardly "Well, monsieur, oh, you're going to think I'm crazy, but uh, no, there isn't. You see, I really can't remember anything before I was thirty-six. I had quite a terrible illness and I've never really recovered. I'm perfectly healthy and everything is fine, I just cannot remember anything beyond waking up in a strange hospital. The doctors said that a man brought me there and then left. I was apparently at a home by the coast and had quite a nasty case of tuberculosis. The man didn't think I was going to live, but I pulled through. The only reason I can remember my first name was from the engraved pocket watch the doctors found in my coat, and a letter addressed to a Madame Giry telling her to take a little girl.. somewhere. The letter was quite stained and torn fro the journey, but both the items claimed they belonged to a man named Gustave, and since I was currently in possession of them at that time, they must have been mine. But other than that, I have no memories whatsoever before then, only what I've accomplished after being released from the hospital"

Erik felt his body go rigid when Gustave mentioned Mme. Giry. What could this person have been mixed up with Marie for?

"If you don't mind my asking monsieur, what was the letter to Mme. Giry about?"

"Honestly, I have no idea. The ink ran and it's in a very bad condition. The only things I can make out are something about a little girl and the ballet corps. I have no idea. It could be a story or a love letter for all I can tell"

Christine came out during his little speech, handing out the coffee which Gustave accepted with a "Merci". She too had heard his response about Madame Giry, but she shrugged off her tiny hopes that had never quite died. Mme. Giry received hundreds of letters like that every season, parents and tutors wishing her to take in their little girl and train her in the ballet corps. She had been the ballet mistress for thirty years and taught thousands of little girls, herself included. It wasn't anything that unusual for this man to have an old letter like that. Was it? Oh well, maybe she should change the subject, for this was quickly becoming too strange for her liking.

"So, monsieur, do you know if you have any family?"

"No, mademoiselle, I am afraid I do not. I have these sharp little memories every so often of a little girl with brown curls and a scarf, but I have no idea who it is, and most of the time I have no idea whether it's my own imagination or just a rare memory. I have no idea who she is, a niece or neighbor girl, maybe even a daughter" he said sadly

Christine truly felt bad for the man. How awful, to have no memories of your life or your loved ones and to have no idea of who you truly are. He must have had a hard life. Erik, on the other hand, wasn't quite so sympathetic. He'd heard of men like these, con artists and pickpockets who worked up sob stories for money. Members of the gypsy camp he'd been forced into had done this every time they'd travel, often forcing one of the younger gypsy girls to go out looking for travelers with a sob story worked up to put on a performance for a few gold coins.

He cleared his throat "So, monsieur, what do you do for a living?"

"Oh, odd jobs here and there, whatever is available at the time. I am quite involved with music though. I have developed quite a passion for the violin"

Christine nearly choked on her drink "The violin?"

"Yes, do you play?"

"No but my fa- a man I used to know played. Quite beautifully actually. He would play for me all the time"

"What a wonderful expierence you must have had. I'm afraid I'm really a hopeless case. I cannot sight read, I can just play a tune by ear"

"By ear?" Erik asked incredibly. This man and he had a lot in common. Erik could play something perfectly upon hearing it once, an odd trait for musicians since most were strictly sight-readers and used their musical ear to simply aid them, not guide them

"Yes, I can only play by ear I'm afraid. It's funny, though. Sometimes, I'll just start playing a tune and I've never seen music for it before or even heard it! I just know where my fingers should be and what the notes are and I can remember than perfectly. It's so strange"

Christine felt a strange numbness coming over her. Her own father, bless him, could only play music once he'd heard it. He couldn't sight read at all. Notes on a page meant nothing to him, even if he was reading his own compositions. The same was true for Christine. The notes in Erik's music and the notes he struck on his keyboard held no connection to her. She could only identify with the sound coming from them, the perfect pitch and tone. She hardly noticed when Erik dragged her off to the kitchen with him, still keeping his eyes on Gustave at all times

"Christine, I know you want to be kind to an old man, but something isn't right here" he whispered

"What?"

"I don't think he really has amnesia or ever had it. Christine, he must be lying. I've seen men like these before. They're con artists and frauds. They work up a sob story hoping you'll open your wallets for them."

"Erik, he's just a poor old man who's cold and tired. Show some compassion for once"

"Christine, he has to be lying. It's almost impossible that a violinist could only play by ear. In string instruments, you have to be able to sight read to correspond with the pitch. It's almost impossible for a violinist to only be able to play by ear if-"

"Erik" Christine cut in coldly, her eyes blazing "My own father was a violinist and he only played by ear. Notes meant nothing to him, he never sight-read. Don't you dare tell me what's possible and not possible for a violinist when I was raised by one, damn it! Hes' just a poor old man and I don't think he has any ulterior motives. You could show a little kindness" she said, turning sharply around and leaving him standing there, resisting the urge to slap him. Why was it so hard for him to trust anyone?

She came back out to find Gustave reading her book of fairy-tales. He was engrossed. She cleared her throat softly and he looked up guiltily

"Oh, I'm so sorry mademoiselle, I never should have been looking at that without your permission. Please forgive me"

"Oh, it's quite all right, don't fret about it. What were you reading?" she asked as she picked up her coffee cup

He sighed, picking up the book "This tale right here. It seems so familiar, yet I can't say why. It just makes me picture that little girl on the shore"

Christine felt a sharp stab in her heart when she looked at the tale: _Little Lottie._

"Oh, are you fond of it?"

"Quite so. I seem to remember these words here from the poem. In fact, the words written here fit perfectly with a tune I'm always playing on my violin. Would you like to hear?"

Christine nodded blankly. This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be real

He cleared his throat and began singing in a pure, light tenor

"_'But what I love best' Lottie said_

_'Is when I'm asleep in my bed_

_And the Angel of Music sings songs in my head'"_

Christine heard the coffee cup she was holding shatter as it hit the wooden floor, yet it seemed like a thousand miles away. Somewhere, she heard her own voice joining in with his, in a song she hadn't heard since so long ago, but she had never forgotten

"_'And the Angel of music sings songs in my head_

_The Angel of Music sings songs in my head'"_ they finished

Christine looked up blankly at him, still in a trance

"Monsieur, that was one of my father's original compositions. He wrote it specifically for me. No one else has ever heard that tune. Where did you hear it?"

He looked at her in a daze, starting to make the connection

"I haven't heard it before, mademoiselle. I simply remembered from somewhere long ago, and have played it over and over."

"My father wrote that. After he promised he'd send me..."

"The Angel of Music?" he said softly

Christine gasped

"The stories down by the seashore..."

"My talent with the violin..."

"Little Lottie..."

"The little girl with the brown curls and the scarf I so often remember..."

"The Angel of Music..."

She looked up at him again as his eyes shone with compassion

"Monsieur, I lost my father when he was thirty-six to tuberculosis. I was sent away to the Opera because they knew he was going to die. It was his last wish for me-"

"To train in the ballet corps with Mme. Giry?" he finished

She nodded, absentmindedly

"I recovered from tuberculosis whenI was thirty-six and have no memory beyond that, except for some strange old songs...-"

"-and a little girl with brown curls and a scarf at the seashore" she gasped excitedly

He gasped touching Christine's curls for a moment

"My little girl" he said faintly "my little girl I always told stories too. About Little Lottie to encourage her to practice her singing" he said softly

Erik was watching the entire display with a mixture of disbelief and amazement. That couldn't be true.

Could it?

"And my father, I missed so much after he died. I always remembered his tales of Little Lottie and playing the violin to me at the seashore-"

"-While you ate peppermints" he said, the realization dawning on them both at once

"Father?" Christine gasped excitedly, her eyes shinning with hope

"Christine, my Christine! My Little Lottie!" he said excitedly

They embraced, tears of joy streaming down Christine's face

"Oh father, it really is you! You're truly alive! Oh, I've always hoped!"

"Oh Christine, I never dreamed I would live to see this day! I found my memory...and my long-lost daughter!"

He broke apart, glancing at her, tears of joy threatening to spill from his eyes

"My Christine. My Angel of Music"


	10. No Second Thoughts

_**Sweet Seduction**_

_Chapter Ten: No Second Thoughts_

Christine sighed happily, sitting up in her bed the next morning. So much had happened over the past two days, ever since she found out her father was still living. She couldn't describe the sense of joy and happiness she now felt, to have her father back with her again. He'd explained everything to her the next morning over their breakfast; how he couldn't remember anything after his illness, how he had been presumed to be dead when really unconscious and how he had spent the rest of his life just wandering around aimlessly, hoping he might find something, anything that would give him a clue to his identity. And now at last he had. He and Christine had been reminiscing ever since then, laughing and talking about old times, like when Raoul had dove into the sea, knowing he couldn't swim, just to rescue Christine's scarf. Or, once when Christine had torn his concert shirt by accident when she was four and tried to mend it with taffy. He had laughed and laughed remembering until he almost cried.

"Oh Christine" he said "You were such a happy little girl back then. And look at you now, all grown up and such a beautiful young woman. You can't imagine how happy you've made this old man"

He chuckled "I wonder if you don't try to mend this young man's shirts with taffy anymore."

"Who, Erik?" she asked lightly "he probably wouldn't notice if I did. He'd be too involved with his music to let some small detail like that bother him. Just like you were when you started composing"

"By the way" he started, his tone growing serious "who is this young man you're living with? Someone special?"

"Oh, no one that exceptional, Father. Just...my fiancée!" she giggled. He coughed

"Christine, my dear, you're engaged?"

"Yes, of course! We've known each other since I was very young"

"I don't recall...well, then again, I don't recall much of anything anymore, after the sickness, but how did you come across him?"

"Father, it was actually because of you!"

and then she'd gone on to explain how Erik had pretended to be the Angel of Music her father sent to her, and eventually had gotten to know her better and fallen in love with her, sparing no details about their unusual courtship. Her father hadn't looked all that happy about her news. Now that she thought about it, he actually looked a little...angry. Well, maybe he just hadn't been feeling well, or was still in shock over the good news. It had to be very hard for any father to accept he wasn't the only man in his little girl's life anymore, especially after he'd just found his little girl after all these years. Still, something still seemed...odd about him. Like last night, when he played the violin for her. She had brought out the violin in it's battered case that once belonged to her father . She had always kept it with her, and she had gotten it from her dressing room at the Opera the morning she went to talk to Meg and brought it back home with her. She thought he'd be pleased to see it, but it seemed at first like he didn't know what it was.

"What is this?" he asked curiously

Christine felt like she'd been punched "Your old violin, father. Don't you remember?"

"Oh, that! Of course, of course my dear. I just didn't believe it was really here. Thank you so much for saving it darling" he said, almost guiltily

Well, he'd gone on to play their favorite songs together, but something still wasn't right. He kept missing notes and interludes, forgetting the timings and notes to some songs, sometimes even the song itself. She supposed it was just the illness, but it hurt that he had forgotten so many of the songs he'd written just for her.

Erik was of course, listening as she sang and he played, mentally taking notes. Like Christine, he felt something wasn't right here and felt no hesitation in mentioning it to her. She shrugged him off as usual. She was so happy and he hated to spoil it, but his instincts were too strong to ignore this. The man couldn't remember how to play his own songs! It seemed like he barely knew how to play the violin, and he couldn't play by ear. The man seemed almost...tone-deaf, unaware he'd made a mistake if Christine didn't point it out, which she tried not too. And something about his story didn't figure out right. Tuberculosis didn't lead to amnesia. You couldn't have forgotten your identity or memories simply from an illness. Erik knew enough about the human body and illnesses to know this. He still strongly suspected the man wasn't completely telling the truth, but he'd' stopped telling Christine. She was too happy to listen or care and she didn't believe him anyway. He just hoped she wouldn't be hurt...

At that moment, Erik omitted a loud snore in his sleep, snapping Christine out of her recollections of the past few days as she resisted the urge to laugh. Of course, after finding Gustave, they couldn't very well throw him out, so they let him stay in their small apartment. Erik wasn't comfortable with the idea of the man sleeping in his study or Christine's room, so they let him sleep on the couch in the living room. Unfortunately, he mumbled constantly in his sleep, and after a very restless night on Erik's part (since he could hear Gustave through the thin study door) he had awkwardly come into Christine's room and for one night, they agreed to share the large bed. Although, neither one could sleep knowing the other was fully awake and lying next to them, and that posed too many sinful temptation for a man and woman not yet married, so Erik had gotten up and spent the remaining hours of the night curled up in a chair in Christine's room. And that was how it had been ever since, with Christine in the bed, always awaking earlier to find Erik sprawled out over the chair sleeping, rarely even snoring or oddly enough singing in his sleep. She wondered if he knew he did that.

A soft knock on the door once again interrupted her thoughts and a voice whispered softly "Christine? Are you awake yet?"

She smiled. Her father was still so eager, after all these years, to greet the day with a smile. He always was an early-riser.

"Yes, father, I'm awake. You can come in"

He entered softly, fully dressed for the day in a suit he'd bought after his arrival. He hadn't intended on staying anywhere, only passing through Paris on his way back to Sweden when his carriage had lost a wheel, leaving him trying to find somewhere to stay with no money in the pouring rain.

"Good to see you're up already sweetheart. If you're hungry, I made us both a big Swedish breakfast like we used to have together."

"Mm, how could I refuse that? I'll be right out" she said laughing as she pulled on a robe over her nightgown. She started to wake Erik up, but her father shook his head

"No, Christine let him sleep for now. There's something I need to talk to you about anyway"

She followed her father out into the kitchen, puzzled and sat down. He had really outdone himself this time. She bit into a scone, expecting the familiar sweetness to spread over her tongue, but this one tasted...odd. Not quite as good as she remembered. Maybe it was just her. She took another one from the dish, but it tasted just the same; dry and a little vulgar. Oh well. There was plenty of other good food he had made for her she enjoyed. He sat down at the table, covering her hand with his own

"Christine, dear, I know it probably isn't my place to ask, but I want to know. Are you... happy?"

"Oh course father! Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, it's just this Erik fellow. Forgive me, but, he just doesn't seem like what I always dreamed of for you. I mean, taking advantage of a poor young girl who well, thought she just lost her father, pretending to really be something I created for you, even pretending to be me just to win your affections! Is that what someone who is truly in love with you would do?"

She smiled at his concern "Father, don't worry. I know, our meetings were a tad bit...unorthodox., but his intentions were pure and look what happened: I became the prima donna of the Opera House, thanks to his help! And he really does love me. You do approve, don't you?"

He sighed "Christine, you know that I trust your judgement. I just don't want to see you making a foolish mistake and suffer for it the rest of your life. How do you know you truly love him? Is it really pure love, or is this a schoolgirl crush you're just trying to make something out of?"

She bit her lip. He did have a point... No! What was she thinking. She loved Erik. Loved him with all her heart. Father was just looking out for her and being a tad bit overprotective. He had a right to be. He was her father, after all.

She smiled "Father, I'm sure I'm making the right choice. I'm in love with Erik. I always have been" _Well, not always_ she thought _but I love him now. That's all that matters. Isn't' it?_

"Dear, I love you and that's why I only want the best for you. I only wish you'd consider this more. You have to be honest about your true feelings towards him. If you realize you aren't really in love, you have to admit your mistake, before it's too late."

Christine frowned. It seemed almost like her father was trying to talk her out of getting married. She thought that every father, even though he had his doubts and concerns, was happy to see his little girl getting married to someone that she loved and made her happy. But, that didn't seem right. Her father didn't seemed like he disapproved of the idea of her getting married. She hoped to God she was wrong, but it almost seemed like he disapproved of the idea of her getting married_ to Erik._

"Father, I really do love him-"

"Yes, Christine, but are you sure? You must have thought you were in love with hundreds of little boys when you were growing up. Hell, you always thought you were in love with that little boy- oh, what's his name, the one-Raoul!"

His words had an almost hypnotic effect on her. Why would he choose now to bring up Raoul? That was practically ancient history. The idea of her being in love with Raoul, still, that was absurd! Wasn't it?

"Christine, how do you know this isn't any different? You always thought you were in love with Raoul. How do you know you still aren't 'in love' with him? You two were inseparable growing up, dear. Do you still love him?"

Christine bolted up out of her seat

"No, of course I'm not still in love with him! I never was!"

"I thought you were engaged to him once. Last winter" he shot back

"How did you know that?"

"I've heard it all over Paris and in the newspapers too! Are they lying or are you?"

"I'm not lying about anything! I'm not in love with him Father!"

"Then why were you engaged? I have a very hard time believing my little independent girl would agree to some arranged marriage!"

She groaned, fighting to keep her temper under control. He kept going

"You were engaged to Raoul once before. How do you know this engagement won't end like that one? How do you know you're truly in love with this Erik person? How do-"

"Father, I am in love with him. I've made mistakes in love before. So has he, and none of that matters now because it's all in the past. Let it go. I love Erik, and I want to marry him." she said coldly

She turned and looked at him, the ice-cold fury in her eyes replaced by pity

"Father, why wouldn't you want to see your little girl with someone who makes me happy? Someone who loves me?"

At that moment, with his impeccable timing, as ever, Erik entered the room, shutting the door behind him softly. They both turned and looked at him. He came over to Christine

"Christine, darling, are you all right? What's wrong? I thought I heard shouting" he asked, confused

She was too furious at her father right now to take Erik's feelings or confusion into consideration. Willing herself not to scream again, she angrily hurried into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her and locking it, fuming at her father for planting all these doubts and questions in her mind, and fuming at herself for believing them.

Gustave glared at his daughter's finance across the table from him. Erik offered a weak smile, then looked at the slammed bedroom door, asking offhandedly

"What's the matter with her?"


	11. Angel of Music, You Decieved Me

_**Sweet Seduction**_

_Chapter Eleven: Angel of Music, You Deceived Me_

A/N: Mystupid computer will not let me respond to reviews, darn it! But I will say most of you were sort of correct in your guesses and some of you were very close. Hope this chap will answer all your questions!

* * *

Erik put on his hat and coat , preparing to leave for his meeting with Georges this afternoon. Maybe this would take his mind off Christine and all his worries, but he doubted anything could. Something had been wrong with her since last week, when she and her father had had that argument over God knows what. She wouldn't tell him what was wrong, but he knew something was. Of course, she and her father had made up since then and he'd apologized for...whatever he'd done to her, but something was still wrong. He could tell that, even though Christine pretended to be so happy and smiling all the time. Of course, he still had his lingering doubts towards Gustave, but he was the only one. Meg and Mme. Giry and Jacques and Georges were so happy Gustave hadn't really been dead, and were so pleased to see how happy he and Christine were together. They had been reunited at last. Erik had only confessed a few of his doubts to Marie, but even she told him to stop being so suspicious. He just couldn't shake off his instincts. And it didn't help that the man almost seemed like he despised Erik for living. Oh well. He'd learn to deal with it. At least this morning had been pleasant. Gustave had gone to one of the neighboring opera companies to see if there were any positions open for a symphony violinist, leaving Erik and Christine alone this morning, so Erik was grateful for that. 

He called out to Christine he was leaving and Georges might be coming over for dinner again. She told him to have a nice time.

As soon as he was gone, Christine came out into the living room working on Erik's pillow again. Sleeping in that chair couldn't be comfortable, but he was still too stubborn and polite to share the bed with her. She knew he must have thought that she had forgotten about this, but in truth she wanted it to be a surprise. It might have been a nicer surprise it it resembled a circle instead of resembling a jagged pie tin, and if the stuffing was a bit more evenly spread, but she'd find a way to fix that.

She settled down to sew, but she couldn't keep her mind on the stitches. Instead, she kept replaying her father's words over and over in her mind from their argument last week. She chided herself for still thinking about it. He'd apologized and everything was fine between them now, but still, she couldn't forget his words.

She let her eyes wander over the apartment, trying to distract herself. She noticed Gustave's coat was in a rumpled mess near the closet. She supposed he must have dropped it early that morning before he went to look for a job. She chided herself again for being lazy. She was a lady, after all, and it was the woman's job to keep the house tidy. She went over and bent down to pick it up, but was surprised when she felt something solid underneath it that wasn't the smooth wooden floor. She shoved his coat to the side to see what it was. She smiled. It was just a leather-bound folder stuffed with papers. She went to put it on the desk, but she stopped. What would it hurt to sneak a quick look? It was probably just a lot of compositions. Maybe she could find the ones in here he kept forgetting.

She had no idea what was in that folder would hurt her worse than she could have ever imagined.

She settled back down on the floor, spreading out her indigo skirt comfortably over her stockinged legs. She opened up the folder, leaning over it to see better, but she was surprised. They were all sorts of letters. The ache in her stomach grew worse with each page. There were photographs of her in this folder, as a very young girl and more of her at her current age. There were pictures of her father, as she remembered him and little notes scribbled on the back: _Size 6 suit, curly hair, lighter skin shade._

She kept going. There was the address to her apartment building and lists of her favorite things: favorite stories, favorite songs, favorite foods, the list went on and on. She felt sick _Why would papa have all this is he couldn't even remember who he was?_

She now went back to the letters and read through them. She almost threw up. Each of the letters was addressed to a man named Joseph Vernen, and even worse, they were from Raoul. Each letter included specific memories Raoul had written out from what he remembered about Christine and her father when he was a young boy; stories Christine's father had told them, specific details about Christine as a little girl, the letters went on and on. One letter was filled with gold francs _"To ensure your silence of this job to anyone else, my good man"_ Raoul had written. Each letter detailed exactly what this Joseph man should do: _Wait for some horrid weather and go directly to this apartment. Use your acting skills to make Christine and her ignorant husband take pity on you and let you stay the night. Act out the story as I've written for you and make Christine believe you're her long-lost father, do whatever you must,make her believe you and earn her trust. Once you have, convince her she is marrying the wrong man and convince her she doesn't love him. Do this and you will be greatly rewarded my good man with ten thousand gold francs paid directly upon completion of the job. _

Christine panted, feeling even sicker then before. It finally made sense. This man wasn't her father after all! Her hopes had been dashed once again. Even worse, Raoul had paid an actor to impersonate Christine's father and persuade her not to marry Erik so Raoul could have her! It was sickening that Raoul had stooped this low to win Christine back. To think, she had trusted Raoul and this Joseph person! She had really let herself believe all this time that her dear Papa was truly alive. Well, this certainly explained all of Gus-_ Joseph's _inconsistencies and why he couldn't play the violin as Christine wished. He was a fraud! A lier, a con man, just like Erik had warned her about. Christine couldn't decide who she loathed more at this moment; Raoul for putting together this whole disgusting charade, Joseph for going along with it and lying boldly to her just "doing his job", or Erik, for being right once again.

At that particular moment, Gust- Joseph came in the door, and saw Christine on the floor, struggling not to cry. All thoughts of tears vanished as soon as she laid eyes on him

"Christine, darling" he said comfortingly "What's wrong? Come, here, tell your Father all about it"

She stood up, revealing the folder buried under her skirt and watched is eyes go from comforting to panic. She rushed over to him, slammed the door shut behind him and turned, slapping him with all her might

"How dare you, you bastard! You pretended to be my father for money?"

"Mademoiselle, please understand, I got a family at home. My kids, they're practically starving. I had to get some money somehow and I couldn't refuse the Vicomte's offer!"

"So you lied to me and deceived me! You pretended to be a dead person to win my trust and then tell me not to marry someone, all for the Vicomte's filthy money!" she screamed, raising her hand to slap him again

He caught her wrist before she could sting his cheek and tightened it in his grasp, making her fall to her knees with pain

"I'll show you what else I would do for some money"

At that moment, Erik opened the door to see Christine's father practically breaking her wrist, forcing her onto the floor with pain and leaning over her threateningly

"What the hell is going on here?" he exclaimed, forcing the man to let go of her

"Erik!" she gasped rubbing her wrist "you were right. He isn't really my father! Raoul paid him to impersonate my father to try to stop me from marrying you! He's a fraud!" she screamed

Erik turned to see the man starting to run out of the apartment through the open door. He grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and dragged him back in, forcing him against the wall

"All right, monsieur, I don't know who you think you are, but you had better start explaining. Right now" he said threateningly

The man cringed "Please, don't hurt me. I already told the little lady here, I got a family at home myself. I got a wife and five kids to feed. I'd do anything for money. Monsieur le Vicomte came into the tavern one night lookin' for an actor and I volunteered for the job. Said he'd pay well and I needed the money. Please, I didn't mean ta hurt ya" he snarled

Christine was trying not to either cry or kill the man. Erik looked like he would have the latter accomplished in a matter of minutes if she didn't do something, so Christine practically flew downstairs to the landlord and told him what happened and he notified the police, who came to Erik and Christie's apartment a few moments later.

"Joseph Vernen, you're under arrest for knowing impersonation of a deceased citizen, and fraud" the sergeant said while two burly policemen bound his hands together and led him out of the apartment

The sergeant turned to Erik and Christine after he finished flipping through Joseph's folder "Monsieur, mademoiselle, I am so sorry this happened, but this man will be in a prison a long, long while. He's rather infamous in the lower parts of town. Calls his acting skills a 'specialty'. It's no wonder he was sent on a job like this. Once again, I'm very sorry this happened, but at least he's finally been captured."

"Sir" Christine says "Does he really-"

"Mademoiselle, before you ask, no, Monsieur Vernen doesn't have a family or a wife and two, three, five, ten children or whatever else he may have said. He's also known for lying" the sergeant said, briefly smiling

He turned to leave "Well, I will leave you two to enjoy the rest of the day. Once again, my sincerest apologies"

"Thank you monsieur" Erik said

The sergeant turned to him for a brief moment, an odd look on his face

"Monsieur, do I know you from somewhere before?"

" Not that I'm aware of. I can't recall meeting you"

"Sorry, my mistake, just that mask" he said, gesturing to his own left cheek "It looks kind of familiar" he said softly before he left. Erik heaved an inward sigh before going to comfort Christine. That had been close.

He hugged her as she sat on the floor sobbing and offered her his handkerchief, which she gratefully accepted, drying her eyes. He held her while she continued weeping, her small body trembling with her sobs.

"I can't believe it. I just can't believe it."

"I know, Christine, I know. It's okay, honey, let it out"

"I thought Father really was alive. I thought maybe he'd come back. I never gave up hoping he might still be alive, but I should have known it was useless" she gasped. Erik stroked her hair gently. He could understand how much it must hurt, to think that a parent was alive again, only to learn it was all a lie. She had every right to be upset about this. He refrained from pointing out he told her it was a con man all along, but strangely, she brought it up

"Oh Erik you were right. It truly was too good to be true. He was just a lying thief, pretending for money" she cried. He patted her on the back lightly

"Christine, it's all right. I was really hoping I was wrong, because I didn't want to see you get hurt. You're so trusting, but darling, sometimes that can be a bad thing."

She sighed "I just cannot believe him!" she said almost angrily

Erik nodded "Some men will do anything for money. It's despicable"

"No, not Gust-Josep- Whatever his name is! I meant Raoul. Why would he sink so low as to do something like this? Why did he just want to hurt me?"

Erik couldn't provide an answer for that one. He just hugged her more tightly

"Christine, I know it's probably not the best time to tell you this, but this sort of thing isn't that unexpected coming from Raoul"

She looked up at him

"Why? What do you mean? I always thought he was so sweet and kind. Well, not anymore, but I didn't think he'd become this horrid"

"Christine, he's not in his right mind. They succeeded in putting him always in the insane asylum. He's locked up in there for good"

She took a minute to digest the shocking news. It looked like Raoul truly had gone insane. She couldn't believe her dearest childhood friend was actually in an asylum. He had always been so sweet and kind towards her, up until recently. She couldn't imagine what had possessed him to do this. He was always such a gentleman towards her, in all regards. She couldn't imagine why he wanted to hurt her so badly. Well she could. He was an insane man, now, and it seemed like he almost wanted to get revenge at her. She was so furious at him right now for making her so upset and confused and hurt all at once because it was all his doing.

Erik was feeling more angry than Christine was at his bitter rival right now. How dare that man knowingly make Christine so upset! How heartless was he? Erik had quite a number of names he was dying to call him, but that only made him angrier, because he couldn't say any of them in the presence of a lady.

* * *

Ahh, yet another reason to hate the fruity fop... 

(and to please leave a review)


	12. Engagement Plans

_**Sweet Seduction**_

_Chapter Twelve: Engagement Plans _

Christine sat with Meg and Madame Giry at the kitchen table, with fabrics and papers scattered all over the apartment. Six months had gone by in a flurry of excitement and social visits. Christine and Meg had gone out to all the finest restaurants and stores in Paris already and went to the ballet or the theater almost twice a week. Even though they had lived in Paris all their lives, neither one had ever really experienced the city's sights or attractions before. And now that they had so much free time, they were almost always out on the town. Erik had become business partners with Georges and possibly would be promoted to conductor and co-manager upon the Opera House's re-opening, which was scheduled for the new year. Meg's suitor Jacques was an official dancer for a leading competitor theater, but he really wished to dance at the Opera House once the reconstruction was finished and couldn't wait to do so. And, to Christine's surprise, Jacques and Erik had almost become the best of friends along with Georges. The trio was nearly always together and Georges had told Erik privately of his delight at the young lad's enthusiasm for dance and how perhaps in a few years, maybe he could even be promoted to Head Ballet Master along with Mme. Giry as the Head Ballet Mistress until her retirement, which would leave Meg as the Head Ballet Mistress instead of Assistant, ruling the ballet ranks alongside her (Hopefully, by that time) husband. The only two people who didn't know of the ideal future planned for them in the Opera House were Meg and Jacques. Meg hoped he would propose, but her mother was adamant about not even considering it until they had courted the proper length of time, from one to possibly three years. Meg offered her opinions as she looked through the dress patterns and lists with Christine

"Now Meg, don't you think we've enough people on the guest list? Over two hundred fifty? It's too much. _I_ don't even know some of these people from the Opera and I'm the _bride_ for goodness' sake!"

"Christine, you simply must invite Monsieur and Madame Nousparlent! They used to be very generous patrons to the Opera House!"

"Well, they wouldn't know I was getting married if someone hadn't spilled the beans" she said annoyed

Meg squirmed, her neck flushing with guilt again. Over three months ago, at the ballet with Jacques, Meg and a man beside her had been talking politely before the program began and at intermission, just casually conversing about their friends and family and such. Meg, of course, mentioned her best friend Christine. The man asked in delight "Christine Daae?" and Meg of course had said yes and asked of any relation to her. He claimed to have none, but kept asking of her, and Meg accidentally let it slip she was getting married to the future conductor of the reconstructed Opera House. Well, it just so happened the man had been a newspaper reporter, hungry for information as was everyone about the young diva's disappearance. And guess what was the headline of the socialite column in the following day's newspaper? So, now, everyone knew she was back and would maybe begin singing again and basically Christine's "in-hiding" status went down the drain. She and Erik had both been furious at Meg at first, but eventually calmed down and forgiven her. Well, mostly. Meg quickly changed the subject

"Oh Christine, you're so lucky! Imagine, a big grand wedding to the perfect man. Have you decided who will be your Maid of Honor yet?" Meg asked coyly

Christine rolled her eyes "Meg, don't tease so. You know I'll chose you of course. You're my best friend, even if you do let things slip sometimes. Whom else could I possibly think of?"

Meg giggled "Oh, we'll have to pick out a grand color scheme after we chose your dress"

Christine turned to Mme. Giry, starring off distantly on the sofa

"And Mme. Giry, would you mind doing the Honor of being the Mother of the Bride? And possibly the groom? You've been such a wonderful mother figure to both Erik and I, we couldn't dream of anyone but you in the place."

A small tear formed in her eye "Of course child. I would be delighted" And she went off starring into space again, entrapped in her own thoughts

Meg giggled and whispered to Christine behind her hand "Mother's been developing quite the affection for Monsieur Beaumont lately, and I think he's returning it. You can just see it in their eyes"

Christine smiled. It was so nice all her friends were involved in romances of their own

Meg cast her eyes down and asked softly

"Christine, I don't mean to offend, but, who will escort you up the aisle? Since your... I mean, if you don't wish to go alone, perhaps Monsieur Beaumont would do you the honor"

Christine sighed, memories tugging at her heart. She so wished her own father could still be here somehow, to share in all this joy. That horrid incident with the imposter Raoul had hired to portray her father six months ago had only made her long for her real father, the father she so fondly remembered and dearly missed. Her friends had all sympathized and comforted her when they learned the truth about the actor pretending to be Christine's "Father" but it couldn't fill the ache she felt inside. As much as she loved Monsieur Beaumont, she knew neither she nor Erik would approve or accept anyone else taking her father's place on this special day

She set her chin in a firm, determined line, putting on a brave face

"Thank you for the suggestion, Meg, but I couldn't. I couldn't have anyone but my father walking beside me on that day. I'll go up alone"

Meg nodded, turning her attention to the pile of white gauze on the table arranged in a makeshift veil "So, what do you think of this one?" she asked

Christine bit her lip thoughtfully, trying to decide "I don't know. Isn't it a bit early to be deciding on all this?"

"Well, that depends on when you're getting married..." Meg trailed off suggestively

Christine sighed "For the last time, we haven't settled on a date yet! I know I want a winter wedding-"

"Oh, that's helpful. It could be anywhere between now and March!"

"Meg, would you let me finish? I know I want a winter wedding so it can coincide with the Opera House's re-opening. Only, we have no idea whether it will be before or after the new year. Probably after, but then when should we have the wedding? We can't get married on Christmas! Can we?" she asked

"Christine, you have to leave time for the honeymoon" Meg pointed out, making Christine blush.

"Well, that's true. So, maybe two weeks before Christmas? Or maybe a few days afterwards? I don't know, I'll have to talk this over with Erik. He'll know more about the Opera House dates and scheduling so he can fill me in and maybe I can work around it and approve the date with him. He'd be so forgetful of our anniversary, so that's why I though of a Christmas wedding, you know? Double holiday, maybe even a double wedding..." she said

Meg looked puzzled "With whom?"

"You and Jacques of course"

Meg groaned, whispering "Don't get your hopes up. If Mother's still our chaperone, we won't be married for the next twenty years if we're lucky!"

Christine glanced over her shoulder, assured Mme. Giry had fallen asleep and wasn't listening to her daughter's rants. Although Christine never told Meg, she thought it was a bit ungrateful of Meg to prattle on and on about her mother all the time. As strict and demanding of a mother as Mme. Giry was to Meg, Christine thought Meg was lucky to know her mother at all, even though she wished she didn't. Christine's own mother had died when she was only two, so she had even fewer memories of her than she did her father. The only thing she knew was her mother was blond, a good singer and cook, and loved to read. She learned later when she was older that her mother had drowned in the ocean during an unexpected storm. Still, she supposed all mothers and daughters had these little squabbles and it was perfectly normal, and as Meg's friend, she should be attentively listening.

She tried to force her attention to Meg's voice, but she eventually tuned it out. Meg sighed

"All right, enough about me and my troubles, I can tell I've lost you already and who knows when Maman may wake up and hear me going on about her so. Come, let's work on you dress. Now, if you want a cupped shoulder style, you'll need at least four more yards of this material..."

* * *

Erik bounded up the steps to his apartment building, whistling the song Jacques had hummed from the ballet the other night. He was in such a good mood today. Life really wasn't so bad when you actually had friends, a finance, and, well, basically a _life_. He was looking forward to a nice, quiet evening with Christine at home. Maybe they could read again, or he could teach her the new song he'd learned. Imagine his surprise and mild amusement to open the door softly to find Meg and Mme. Giry with their backs to him, trying the baste or pin together some sort of lacy white curtain and veil on his wife over her shift and corset. He cleared his throat rather loudly 

"Uh, am I interrupting something ladies?"

They all screamed, and Meg quickly shut the door, locking him out while Mme. Giry covered Christine and began helping her out of the makeshift gown

"Meg! What is wrong? Let me in!" Erik called angrily

"Oh Erik, you spoiled the surprise!" she wailed

"What surprise? What are you talking about?"

"It's bad luck for a groom to see his bride in her wedding dress before the wedding! Everyone knows that! You should have knocked"

"Meg, it's my own apartment, I'm not going to- Wait a minute, you're telling me that curtain thing is her dress?"

"Well, the basic pattern, but we can't use that now since you've seen it"she said in annoyance "Oh, never mind, it's fine now come in. Christine's ready"

He entered to find his apartment covered in white fabrics and papers, Christine in a normal brown dress (which was hastily buttoned all wrong) and her face flushed red from embarrassment and Erik started to laugh, but turned it into a cough when Mme. Giry glared at him. She looked at Meg

"Come Meg, we should be leaving now. It's almost time for dinner"

"Oh but Mother, couldn't we-"

"Meg Giry, don't argue with me. Come on." she nodded to Christine and Erik "Thank you two for...quite the afternoon. Christine, let us know when you two finally decide on something."

"Au revior Mme. Giry. Au revior Meg"

"Au revior Christine"

Erik shut the door behind them and swept Christine up in his arms against her weak protests. He smiled mischievously.

"What just happened here and what did I miss, besides you wrapped up in a curtain?"

She sighed in mock anger "Erik, that was a pattern for my wedding dress! Did you forget we're getting married? It takes some planning you know. There's still the flowers, the guest list, my dress and you have to help me with some of these details you know!"

He kissed her "Mm, I don't really care about any of that. I'm just happy we're getting married!"

She smiled gently "I know, but we still need to take care of these little details, Erik. They're important!"

He set her down gently on the couch and sat down next to her, wickedly kissing her all over. She groaned

"Erik, we need to- Oh, never mind" she groaned as he kissed her neck fiercely, working his way up to her lips and running his hands down her waist and legs. He laid down on top of her and pulled her skirt up tiny bit, exposing little peaks of her gorgeous legs and her frilly petticoats. She broke off kissing him, pulled her skirts back down and sat up

"Erik, stop it.!" she said teasingly, gently swatting his arm "If you go on so,I won't be able to wear white at my wedding!"

"So? Ow!" he responded when she hit his arm again harder. He pretended to groan with pain and she lightly nipped his ear with her lips, making him flinch. She smiled naughtily

"I learned from the best"

"I'll say" He began unbuttoning the wrong buttons on the back of her dress and re-buttoning them in the correct holes slowly, glimpsing at her creamy, smooth skin.

She sighed with impatience

"Erik, if you're going to button it, then button it already! I have to get dinner started"

"Oh, hell with dinner! You know you like this" he said seductively, playing with her hair. He gently lifted one of her curly tendrils and whispered in her ear

"I love you"

"I love you too, Erik, but you still haven't made me forget about the guests and the flowers and everything else. And we need to pick a date!" she exclaimed

He sighed. Why was it when you were in the mood, women never were?

He lifted her off the couch again, twirling her around

"Christine, I say just skip the whole big fancy wedding. Who needs it? You, me, a suitcase and Spain and we can elope! We could be married by tomorrow, without all the little petty details!"

"Erik, no, that won't work" she said when he finally put her down

"Why? You want to go to Rome instead?"

"No, we have to have a real wedding. Erik, I want this to be a special day for both of us and we have to talk about everything before we decide, even the smallest detail. It's our wedding. Not mine, not yours, _ours_. We've got to agree on something sooner or later." she said firmly sitting down

He desperately tried to change the subject as he sat down next to her "Hey, Christine, Georges said tomorrow, if you want too, you could come with us to the Opera House,while we're checking on all the final details. It's almost as grand as it was before. You'll love it"

She smiled " That sounds lovely. And now I'll go get dinner started. Excuse me" she said standing up just as he moved to kiss her.

She never said a word through dinner until Erik finally sighed regretfully "All right. We can start picking all this wedding stuff right after dinner, if it's that important."

She smiled "Thank you. And I promise, it really won't be as tedious as you think. It may even be fun!" she exclaimed, collecting their plates and silverware

He groaned as soon as Christine was out of earshot. There went the rest of the evening

* * *

Christine heard a knock her her bedroom door later that night as she was brushing her hair. "Come in" she called 

Erik came in, in his linen nightclothes, looking slightly embarrassed. He was holding a women's dress box. She looked at him, setting the brush down on the nightstand.

"Erik, what is it?"

"Well, I know how much trouble you've been having, picking out the dress, and I thought this might make it a little... easier."

He set the box down on the bed, removing the lid to reveal a sparkling, gorgeous white gown. He spread it out gently over the bed as Christine gasped, drawing closer to look at it.

"Oh Erik, this is beautiful. Where did you...?" she trailed off, tracing the intricate beaded designs on the bodice gently with her finger

"I made it. A long time ago, when I kept hoping you...well, maybe you wanted to... anyway, I just dug it out today from my old lair when I went to the Opera House with Georges. It took months to put together correctly, and I made it with your body measurements, so I hope it still fits"

She held it up to her body, swirling around and watching the glittering silky fabric sparkle when it hit the light. Layer after layer of ruffles and lace on the skirt, a modestly low-cut bodice with beaded designs, elbow length sleeves with yards of extra fabric bunched together in beautiful patterns and the bodice and waist of the gown laced up in a corset-like style to accentuate her figure. The veil was equally as beautiful, with a little headpiece of white flowers and pearls entwined together in the silvery crown. The veil extended off of it, mounds of sheer white fabric flowing like a waterfall down her back when she put the veil on. It was like something from a dream. She turned around, to see Erik's face bright red against his white porcelain mask, fiddling with his shirt collar

"You don't like it, do you? Oh, I never should have gotten this back out again, it was-"

"Erik" she whispered in delight, silencing him "It's perfect.. More beautiful than anything I could possibly have dreamed of. I love it. Thank you so much."

He smiled "Does this tie into that ridiculous notion that I can't see you in the dress before the wedding?"

She laughed, trying to consider "Well, technically, you've only seen the dress. You haven't seen me in it yet, so I suppose that's all right. Thank you for giving it to me, Erik."

"You're more than welcome my dear"

She folded the dress and veil neatly, placing them back in the box and putting the box carefully in her closet.

He smiled, relieved that she liked it. She sat down again at the nightstand, brushing her hair and watching him in the mirror behind her, moving about the room. He looked at her little collection of body creams and oils, most of which were flower scented or lavender. He smiled knowingly, turning back around

"Ahh, so that's why you always smell of lavender. I always wondered."

She laughed , putting the brush down and sitting down on the bed

"Erik, there's a lot of things women use to make themselves beautiful. It doesn't just come naturally. Corsets, makeup, body creams, perfumes, brushes, there's millions of things. Beauty is pain"

He smiled sitting down next to her "Yes, a pain in the wallet" She gasped, pretending to be offended. He laughed "Christine, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. You don't really need any of this stuff"

"Just like you don't really need that mask" she said bluntly, surprising him. His hand instantly reached up to touch it.

"Erik, you know I don't mind seeing what's behind it. People who truly love you don't care if you don't look like everyone else. You don't need to wear it all the time" she said, gently taking it off his face. His hand instantly moved up to cover his mangled flesh but she stopped it, pulling it back down. She smiled teasingly

"See? We're making progress. You haven't thrown me on the floor or started screaming yet and it's been a full minute. That's an improvement"

He forced a laugh for her sake, even though Erik still felt uncomfortable when either of them mentioned how he treated her the night after her debut in his lair when she removed his mask for the first time. It was all water under the bridge now, but he still felt uncomfortable speaking of it. It was the only real time he'd ever acted cruelly towards Christine and he wished it never happened.

He sighed, looking at the mask "Maybe you're right. I won't wear it...for tonight at least" he added hastily

She smiled, tracing one of his scars with her finger "I like you better this way. You don't seem as...mysterious"

He laughed, this time for real. "All right, maybe I won't be the mysterious Phantom of the Opera for tonight. I'll just be the semi-normal Phantom of Apartment D14."

She smiled as she got into bed and he stood up to leave "Well, good night Christine. See you in the morning"

"Wait!" she said as he started to shut the door. He came back in

"Yes?"

"I didn't get a goodnight kiss" she said, pretending to pout. He smiled ruthlessly and leaned over, kissing her sweetly.

"Good night"

"I don't think that was enough to make me sleepy" Christine said like a little girl

He turned back around, and after about six more good night kisses and some snuggling, they both really were tired and said goodnight. Christine turned out the lamp and Erik headed back to his study, opening the door once more when he was sure Christine was asleep, only to retrieve his mask from her bedside table and take it back to the study with him. He really would sleep without it tonight, for her sake, but he had learned one thing over the years:

Better safe than sorry


	13. An Interrupted Tour

_**Sweet Seduction**_

_Chapter Thirteen: An Interrupted Tour_

Raoul de Changy paced around his room angrily. Six months had passed since he'd been locked up in this blasted asylum. Well, it was pretty decent compared to the other option of jail. He couldn't believe the actor he had hired had let him down. That man assured him he wouldn't fail and was the perfect man for the job! _Bullshit_ Raoul thought _Look what happened. He got us both caught and forced me in this insane house. _After his father heard about what happened, he decided enough was enough and took Phillipe's advice to heart, having Raoul committed by force into the insane asylum. Raoul hadn't really been in the insane asylum before. He'd spread the rumor himself that he'd been locked up, hoping it would reach his rival, that blasted Phantom and lure him and Christine into a little false sense of security. That way, they would never suspect he and Christine's so called "father" could possibly be working together. But, his plan failed, and the next day five burly men burst his door down and forced him into the "safe" padded wagon used to transport patients. Of course, if Raoul didn't stay here, he would be in jail instead. It was just choosing the lesser of two evils. Here, people were much kinder to the patients and less suspicious, and Raoul could sometimes bribe one or two new employees to do his bidding and keep him in contact with the outside world. If anyone ever accused him of anything, he could just plead his insanity and get off the hook. Just the same, he was still planning on getting his revenge. One of the employees he had bribed had informed him what Christine and that revolting monster she called her finance would be doing today. He'd made sure the man would be exactly where they were, and for almost a thousand francs, the man had ensured Raoul that the Phantom wouldn't be alive that very night. Raoul smiled at the thought of it. Sooner or later, he would be released from this hell, and then he could go find Christine himself and make her see who she truly loved.

Even if he had to force her.

* * *

"And these are the new sculptures we have crafted in addition to the traditional ones we've re-created from before the fire" Georges continued as he took Christine and Erik around on a tour. Erik, of course, had already seen all this before, but since Christine was forced to just wait while he and Georges had to take an unexpected business call in private, he wanted to make it up to her, and Georges happily agreed to guide them around on a private tour. 

"My, they're fascinating" Christine said. She gasped happily "Oh, is that a fixture of Aphrodite and Eros next to box five?"

George nodded in approval "Yes, what a keen eye you have for art Christine. That is indeed the god and goddess of love next to that particular box. Of course, we still have to finish some minor details and of course, everything still needs painted, but it's wonderful you can make them out already"

"Oh, they're so detailed. It's gorgeous."

"In fact Christine" Georges said, casting a sly glance at Erik, who knew what was coming "I had originally wanted to place the fixtures of Orpheus and Eurydice in the architecture near Box Five. It's perfectly diagonal to the orchestra pit and stage, and with Orpheus being the god of music of course, my reasons seemed obvious. But your finance here absolutely insisted the fixtures of Aphrodite and Eros be placed here. He thought it would be more reasonable to place Orpheus and Eurydice over the stage and I must say, now that it's all said and done, I agree with him. You have quite the eye for sculpture old boy!" Georges joked good-naturedly

Christine smiled at Erik, who was starting to turn beet-red again. It was just like him to place the god and goddess of love near box-five. It was easy to see why Georges was completely oblivious to the hidden symbolism behind it, since Erik still hadn't told Georges about his past. He just thought it was a mere romantic gesture, since Erik often hinted how he wished to buy Box-Five as his own box when the place was functioning again.

Erik smiled "Christine, if you look up there you can see the hooks and open pit where the chandelier will hang"

"Ah yes, we're having the finest crystals sent in from London and Italy, and over five hundred men will be assembling it in the next two weeks. This one will be even larger in scale and far more ornate than the last one. Pity it had to fall, or pity 'The Phantom' had to crash it" he said teasingly

Erik stiffened up awkwardly

Christine asked innocently "Monsieur, have you ever considered that the Phantom could be real? After all, he's almost embedded in the history of this place, and the ballet girls swear he's real. They say they've even seen him"

Erik sent Christine a murderous look that seemed to say: _stop_ _skating on thin ice_ before Georges responded.

"Oh Christine, you must stop giving credence to such foolish rumors. This Phantom is just a myth, right Erik?"

Erik remained silent a little too long . Georges turned to Christine

"Surely you two don't believe it's true?"

Christine wasn't sure how to answer "Well, monsieur...Erik's far too practical to believe such nonsense,so he doesn't wish to offend me by being his usual skeptic self. But, I'm fairly certain any girl or woman who was once a ballet rat here, myself included, would tell you we used to believe in the Opera Ghost almost more than we believed in God"

She laughed cheerfully, trying to brighten the mood

"Of course, now that we're grown, we can see that it was all just childish nonsense the stagehands encouraged to see us scream. Of course, there all a lot of unexplainable thing that have occurred here. Perhaps he really does exist. I don't know, maybe it simply depends on what you believe."

Georges nodded

"Very well put madame...I mean mademoiselle. Speaking of which, when is the wedding?" he asked jovially

Erik rolled his eyes, starting to leave "Georges, Christine can inform you of all that. It's out of my hands"

Christine grabbed his arm, forcing him back over "Oh no you don't." She turned to Georges "I'm afraid my future husband can't be bothered with petty little bores, like our wedding"

He laughed "Well, men don't have as much patience or pay much attention to details as women do. He's no different"

Christine whispered in Erik's ear a little too loudly "Dear, I thought you were going to ask Monsieur Beaumont when the Opera House is re-opening, so we could work the date around it"

Erik turned to Georges, parroting "Monsieur Beaumont, when will the Opera House be re-opening? My wife wants to know so we can work our date around it. Ow!" he responded as Christine pinched him.

Georges laughed "Actually, Erik, I'd been meaning to talk to you about that. Christine, my dear, would you mind excusing us a moment?"

"Another meeting?" she sighed

Georges had a brainstorm "Christine, if you don't mind, while Erik and I discuss these business matters, why don't you see how you like the stage? Surely our Prima Donna will need to familiarize herself with her setting"

"Truly?" Christine asked

"Yes, just watch your step. Up the stairs to your left, in the orchestra pit."

She started to walk up the stairs, eager to see how, and if the stage had changed any.

Erik called after her "Why don't you sing us an aria when you're done"

"Splendid idea, Erik" Georges said

Erik sighed "That was a joke, Georges, We'll be here all night if she gets started" Truly though, he never minded hearing Christine sing, even if it did take all night

* * *

The asylum employee moved from his hiding place in box five. Finally, the two men were unknowingly right where he wanted them, and that precious Christine girl the Vicomte had blabbered about wasn't in the way. The employee wondered briefly if a thousand francs was worth killing someone over. Still, it was his morals or the money he desperately needed, and morals wouldn't pay the rent. He used the crowbar, silently detaching the fixture firmly applied to the balcony. Once it was loose, he gave it a good push, watching it fall to the ground before he left and knew he had been successful. Neither of the men would survive that

* * *

Christine was walking around the stage dreamily while Erik and Georges talked. The stage seemed bigger somehow, which meant sound would carry better on it. Erik and Georges knew what they were doing. She could just imagine, singing again, in front of the crowds of thousands in beautiful costumes, singing the beautiful arias Erik would write for her. Suddenly, a strange noise snapped her out of her daydream. A sound like the cracking of stone. Her gaze wandered up to above where Erik and Georges were standing, in box five. She thought her mind was playing tricks on her when she saw a man in.. a uniform up there, doing something at the edge of the balcony. She realized in cold horror what was happening. The fixture of Eros she had admired was coming loose and beginning to fall. She screamed with all her might 

"Erik! Georges! Look out!"

Erik looked up in time to see the four-hundred pound fixture plummeting towards him. Before he knew what was happening, Georges was shouting and pushed him out of the way. Erik screamed "No!", but it was too late. The fixture fell, and the dust and plaster rose up like a cloud around him before he could make out what happened to Georges. Christine came rushing down, her skirt ripped and her hair torn free of it's tidy bun in her haste to get down there. She ran, sobbing into Erik's arms. He held her and tried desperately to find where his best friend and business partner was, only to feel tears welling up in his own eyes when he realized what had happened.


	14. Surprises and Suspicions

_**Sweet Seduction**_

_Chapter Fourteen: Surprises and Suspicions_

A/N: For the record, I fixed the Ares/Eros error (try saying that five times!) that many of you pointed out last chap! Dang, you guys know your Mythology! ;) Ayways, thanks to all who pointed that out! I'll stop blabbering now!

Begin reading ;)

_

* * *

_Christine looked at the horrible sight before her

"Oh Erik." she whispered "Is he..." she trailed off

Erik nodded, lowering his head. They were both silent for what seemed like an eternity.

Suddenly, Georges began coughing and sat up "My god, what the hell happened?" he sputtered

Christine laughed and threw her arms around his neck "Oh Georges, you're all right" she exclaimed

Erik felt himself laughing too and patted Georges on the back

"You had us worried for a minute there, Georges. We thought we'd lost you"

"Erik, you insult me. I'm not that easy to get rid of" he sighed, dusting off his suit. He started to stand up, wincing with pain and starting to fall. Erik caught him and help him over to a newly-completed seat. He looked at his ankle

"Well, I suppose I wasn't completely uninjured. This is sprained. I believe quite badly from the feel of it"

Christine gasped and Georges felt his own face turning red as he pulled his pants leg up and forced off his shoe

"Forgive me for doing this in the presence of a lady, but after what just happened..." he trailed off

Erik resisted the urge to groan. He'd nearly been killed and the man was worried about breaking social etiquette.

Erik looked at the ankle. It was an odd sight. The ankle was badly swollen, but the skin was stretched so tightly it looked almost ready to break. He sighed

"Georges, we need to get you to a doctor"

He started to help him up, but Georges shrugged him off, only to grab onto Erik's arm a moment later when the pain was so great he began seeing stars. Erik helped him back into the chair and took off his jacket, twisting it tightly around Georges' ankle and upper leg. Christine retrieved her long hair ribbon from the wreckage and tied it around Georges' leg tightly, securing the makeshift splint. She bit her lip looking at Erik

"Erik, how will we help Georges out of here? Look at him, you poor thing, you can't even bear your own weight!"

Georges laughed "Christine, my dear, don't worry. We'll think of something. In fact, if you and your strong finance here will assist me, I should be able to limp to the door and then I'm sure we can find a carriage or street cart of some sort"

So, Erik slung Georges' arm over his shoulder, letting him lean on him while Christine opened all the doors and moved obstacles out of the way for the pair. Once they opened the doors, they were almost mobbed by pedestrians and press members, having heard the noise and wanting to know what happened, and gasping when they saw Georges' injury. Two people motioned over a street carriage and Erik helped Georges up into it. He looked at Christine, who miraculously hadn't been noticed by the press yet. He whispered to her quickly

"Christine, you better go with him"

She turned in surprise "Me? Erik, I'm sure Georges would much rather have you there with him. Or better yet, why don't we both go?"

He shook his head, gesturing to all the people crowding the carriage behind him "I'm sorry, my dear, out of the question. I've got to stay here and cover this fiasco for the press so we don't have a catastrophe in the morning papers. This Opera House doesn't need any bad press before it re-opens"

She sighed "Erik, please, Georges really- I don't know- I won't be allowed-"

"Christine" Georges called from inside the carriage, settling the argument "I won't mind at all if you come along."

She turned to him "But Georges, wouldn't you rather have Erik-"

"Erik's needed here and he's right Christine. We better have a co-manager or some sort of authority explain this to the press so as not to have them running their own wild stories"

Erik gave an inward groan. How was he supposed to explain to the press what just happened when he didn't even know?

Christine turned to Erik whispering "But Erik, what if the doctor has to operate on him? There will be blood and..." she trailed off uncomfortably

Erik kissed her lightly. He had forgotten how squeamish he saw "Christine relax. All the doctor will do is treat the ankle, wrap it and give Georges a hell of a lot of pain medication. He'll be fine. It's just better if he has someone to accompany him there, just for caution's sake" He raised his eyebrows "Unless you'd rather stay in the lion's arena with the press" he suggested

She smiled, shaking her head "No thank you Erik. I' m only a diva. You're the manager" she said teasingly.

He pretended to scowl at Christine, making her giggle. They kissed briefly before Erik helped her up into the carriage. As he shut the door, he could hear Georges starting one of his stories "Oh no my dear, this pain is nothing compared to what else I've been through. In fact, did I ever tell you about the time when I was seventeen and daringly decided to jump my horse over a very wide stream of thin ice?That broken leg was nearly..."

Erik rolled his eyes. Looked like Christine was in for an interesting afternoon . He sighed before resigning himself to face the press

* * *

"Erik?" Christine called as she re-entered the opera house. After a brief search, she finally found him standing in front of the fallen balcony fixture. She sighed, coming up behind him. 

"It was such a beautiful fixture. It's so unfortunate this had to happen."

"Hmm, yes it was. So" he said turning to her and trying to smile "How was your afternoon?"

She rolled her eyes "Peachy, Erik, just peachy. The carriage driver practically broke our necks trying to get to the doctor's office as fast as he could, thanks to the extra money Georges paid him to ensure he 'made haste'. Anyway, it was a hour and a half wait to get in, because Georges' sprain wasn't that serious. And during the wait, your delightful friend told me all of his...entertaining stories, to put it nicely"

Erik chuckled. Georges had been known to stretch the truth a bit for the sake of a good story. He could imagine how many Georges would think up in an hour and a half.

He put his arm around Christine "And...?"

She sighed "Georges will be fine. The sprain will heal in about two weeks, although he'll have quite the hangover tomorrow from all the brandy the doctor gave him to dull the pain while he set his ankle and combined with all the pain medications... I wouldn't bet on seeing your business partner around here tomorrow. Although he was very entertaining on the ride back"

They both laughed. Christine felt herself frown as she looked at the wreckage "This was just..to horrible too even imagine. It's so lucky Georges only has a sprained ankle out of all of this. He could have been killed"

"Yes, Christine, he could have. He's a very lucky man. By the way, how did you explain his injury to the doctor?"

"Oh, you know how good Georges is at making up stories. He just said he tripped on the stairs or something. He also claimed I was his wife once the laudanum began to set in, and he was so drunk from the brandy and laudanum on the ride back, he asked me to marry him. Twice!" Christine giggled

Erik forced himself to smile "What did you say?"

She seemed surprised, laying a hand over her heart "Why, yes of course. You know, I think I've fallen madly in love with him, after such a... delightful afternoon. Of course, he kept calling me Marie while he was proposing. I think maybe he's fallen for Mme. Giry"

Erik sighed. What a pair those two would make.

Christine looked at the wreckage, running her hands over the fixture. She turned to Erik

"Oh Erik, why did this have to happen? You two were making such progress with the reconstruction. How far will this set you back?"

He shrugged "Not really far back. Probably about a three weeks delay, at the most. It may take them even longer to assemble the chandelier."

Christine shuddered "Oh, could you imagine what would have happened if this had fallen during a performance? There would be far worse things than sprained ankles. People would be killed if it accidentally fell then!"

Erik frowned "Christine, I have a few suspicions about that. I don't believe this was an accident"

She turned sharply to look at him "You think someone would do this on purpose? Why?"

"I don't know. But see, come here, over where I'm standing. Now look. If the plaster wasn't secure, part of Eros' hair would still be attached to the balcony if the plaster split. It wouldn't have been a clean break. And see, if you look very closely, you can make out the hole where the fixture was attached."

"But, Erik, does that really mean-"

"Christine, come with me." he said. He led her through another numerous secret passageway, that led them to Box Five. He gestured to a crowbar discarded on the floor

"Still convinced this was an accident?"

She bent down to look at it "Erik, look, there's even some fresh plaster on the end of it!" she exclaimed

"And, I'm sure you'll love this" he said sarcastically. The door to another secret tunnel leading into Box Five was hanging ajar. Someone else had been in Box Five today.

Christine went over, standing in the open doorway, when a gleam of light caught her eye. She walked into the tunnel a bit with Erik behind her when she finally found the source. There was a pouch filled with francs lying on the ground, and Christine found a note inside. She handed it to Erik, who read aloud

"I can't take this money after the horrid deed I've done. To whomever may find this, good riddance, take the money and do what you will with it. Signed, O.G."

Christine gasped, standing up to look at the note "Erik, who could do this? It almost seems like...well..."

"Like they're trying to frame me for what happened" he finished for her.

Christine felt a slow wave of cold guilt spreading over her body. She said horsely

"Erik, I saw a man up here today"

He looked at her "Christine, please, don't try to-"

"Erik really! I did. When you and Georges were talking and I was on the stage, I was looking at all the audience seats and boxes and something caught my eye up there. I thought it was you playing a trick on me, but when I looked closer, there really was a man up there!"

"Could you see what he looked like?"

"Well, no. Not really" she admitted sheepishly "It looked like he had some sort of uniform or something on. It was all one color and he was almost examining the fixture and suddenly he started almost _pushing_ on it. I was about to tell you and Georges when it fell"

Erik sighed. This was not turning out to be a good day.

Christine looked over at him "What does this mean?"

He put his head in his hands slowly

"Christine, we may have another Phantom of the Opera"


	15. One Love, One Lifetime

_**Sweet Seduction**_

_Chapter Fifteen: One Love, One Lifetime_

Christine snuggled up against Erik on the couch, hearing his heart beat softly beneath his shirt. A few weeks had passed since that incident at the Opera and it was now the fifteenth of December. Christine sighed happily, for she and Erik were finally able to rest for a short moment in front of the crackling fire. What Christine didn't know was that Erik had placed that afternoon's newspaper beneath the firewood and it was now reduced to ashes. Their was a feature story about the Vicomte Raoul de Changy trying to kill an asylum employee for "not doing the job right" and something about "the wrong man", only to find later the same employee had comitted suicide. Erik had a sinking feeling that the Vicomte was behind the mishap with the fixture a few weeks ago, but he didn't want to worry Christine for nothing. But, fortunately, the accident with the Eros fixture had amazingly only set the Opera House back a week in schedule, and the workers were now busy stringing together crystals and lighting wires for the chandelier. Erik had brought home two spare crystals Georges had given him for himself and given them to Christine instead, who immediately sewed them onto the bodice of her wedding dress.

Georges was fully recovered from his sprained ankle and he and Erik were now more busy than ever with press conferences and meetings and decisions to make. The Opera House would open on New Year's Eve, with a grand Masquerade Ball to celebrate the re-opening and its first performance on New Years' Day. Christine had already been informed she was remaining the Prima Donna and would be playing all the opera's lead female roles. And Erik, of course had already started reviewing some vocal lessons with her again in preparation. They had both been so busy the past few weeks, it seemed like neither of them had actually stopped to rest for a moment, between business meetings and newspaper interviews, and singing lessons.

"Erik, you did remember to give that wedding invitation to Georges didn't you?"

He sighed "Christine, yes, for the tenth time today, yes I gave him the invitation. And, even if I didn't, I'm sure he wouldn't hesitate to come anyway"

"Well, at least we finally settled on the date"

"Finally. I thought you'd never make up your mind"

"Well, you were the genius that came up with the solution" she said, laughing. Erik finally pointed out to Christine a few weeks ago that the anniversary of her debut at the Opera, December sixteenth, would be coming up soon. She had completely forgotten.(And to think _she_ was worried about Erik forgetting their wedding anniversary!) She remembered it so fondly: Singing for the first time in a beautiful stage gown, looking out at the thousands of audience members listening and most importantly, knowing that _he _was down there, listening to her at her debut. She had sighed

"Oh Erik, I wish I could do it all over again. It was so magical"

"I do too. That was one of the best days of my life, listening to you up there"

"It was so special. I just want to...preserve it somehow. But how? How could you preserve a day in your life like that?"

"Christine, why don't we just get married on December sixteenth?" Erik suggested jokingly "It would solve the wedding date crisis!"

She had whipped around as soon as he said that, hugging him "Oh Erik, it's perfect!" she cried

"What is?"

"Your idea! Why not get married on December sixteenth? It would be enough time to print and send out the invitations and we could have a short honeymoon and be back in time for Christmas and the opera's re-opening" she said, details flying through her mind

Erik chuckled "Why not? It could be as double anniversary and it is a very special day."

So, the invitations had been written (painstakingly for four hours with Meg and Jacques' help, since over three hundred people were attending) and sent out, the church was booked and everything was set in place, waiting to happen

"Can you imagine? This time tomorrow, we'll be married!" Christine sighed happily

"Well, technically,at this time tomorrow, we'll be in the marriage _bed_." Erik said boldly

Christine started to gasp at the boldness of his words but stopped, and then, feeling a little bold herself responded

"Then we'll really be making the Music of the Night"

Erik chuckled "Touche, Mademoiselle Daae."

"I think I'm going to miss that" Christine sighed

"Miss what?"

"Well, tonight will be the last time you or anyone else can ever call me Mademoiselle Daae again. Tomorrow it will be _Madame_ Destler. I'll never be a mademoiselle again. It will just take a little getting used to, that's all"

Erik smiled "Madame Destler. I like the sound of that"

She nodded. She wondered what tomorrow would be like. Was this how it felt to know you were leaving your childhood and your name behind? Excited but nervous, almost a little wary yet ready to burst from happiness? She almost felt confused. Of course, these had to be the second thoughts. She scolded herself mentally. What was she doing? Erik was the perfect man and she loved him. She couldn't imagine going a day without him. She loved him more than she had ever loved anyone before. She just never realized how much could be lost in marriage, but then again, there was so much more that could be gained.

"A penny for your thoughts" Erik said lightly, snapping her out of her thinking

She smiled, looking up at him

"I was only thinking if it weren't for your teaching, I would never have had an opera debut" she said quickly. She wasn't going to let on that she was having a few doubts and worries

Erik smiled. She was obviously nervous about tomorrow. He was too. He had no idea what he was supposed to feel like. Well, he'd think about that later tonight. He said slyly

"Speaking of which, why don't we practice your singing again?' he said, motioning to the upright piano in the corner of the apartment he had recently moved.

She groaned "Erik! More rehearsing? Come on, don't you think I've already had enough voice lessons this week? Tomorrow's our _wedding_! Can't we take a night-"

He silenced her protests with a swift kiss on her lips, running his hands down her body slowly, savoring the feeling of her fragile body pressed against his. She moaned lightly

"All right, one song. That's it"

He smiled, leading her over to the piano bench and sitting down beside her. He gently lifted the cover off the keys

"Now, tonight, I thought we might try something a little different. Close your eyes"

She looked at him skeptically. He persisted "You heard me Christine. Please. Just close your eyes"

She sighed and closed her eyes. He started playing a familiar introduction very softly

"Now, imagine yourself where you last heard this melody. Visualize every detail in your mind, and start singing when it's your turn" he said smoothly as he began singing

_No more talk of darkness  
Forget these wide-eyed fears  
I'm here, nothing can harm you  
My words will warm and calm you_

She saw in her mind the gray, cold rooftop when she'd last heard those words. She was standing there, shivering her too-thin cloak before he had wrapped his arms around her. Strangely, she barely even thought of Raoul standing there next to her or remembered how she tried to convince herself that was the man she loved when her heart knew she didn't, that she truly loved her angel. All she cared about now was Erik's sweet voice rolling over the familiar melody, as if he had been the only man to ever sing it to her. Well, a far as she was concerned right now, he was the only man she could ever imagine singing this to her.

_Let me be your freedom  
Let daylight dry your tears  
I'm here, with you, beside you  
To guard you and to guide you_

His voice was so soft and low in her ear. The sweet familiar melody was comforting to her and she took a small breath before she began singing her part.

_Say you love me every waking moment  
Turn my head with talk of summertime  
Say you need me with you, now and always  
Promise me that all you say is true  
_

Erik savored the sound of her high, sweet voice gliding over the melody. She was the real Angel of Music in his life. He couldn't imagine how horrible his life could be right now if he didn't know of this sweet, strong, passionate love Christine had shown him. He listened to her finishing as their voices overlapped:

_That's all I ask of you_  
_Let me be your shelter  
Let me be your light  
You're safe; No one will find you  
Your fears are far behind you_

_All I want is freedom  
A world with no more light  
And you, always beside me  
To hold me and to hide me_

Erik gave up playing the accompaniment to the song and swiftly moved his free hand around her small waist, moving her closer towards him. Christine's eyes fluttered open gently as she looked at him beside her, the love and devotion in his voice obvious as he began nearing the climax

_Then say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime  
Let me lead you from your solitude  
Say you need me with you here, beside you  
Anywhere you go, let me go to  
That's all I ask of you_

He listened to their voices briefly blended together in the duet. He couldn't believe how beautiful the music was they created together.

_Say you'll share with me on love, one lifetime  
Say the word and I will follow you  
Share each day with me, each night, each morning  
_

Christine looked up at Erik, still playing while looking at her lovingly. This was absolutely perfect. She knew this strong, pure love they both held for each other could never fade and knew the love and trust they spoke of in the moving duet would guide them the rest of their lives

_Say you love me  
_

She softly asked beneath the music. He responded in complete honesty

_You know I do_

_Love me_

_That's all I ask of you_

Erik gently kissed her and as soon as she felt the sweet taste of his lips gliding over hers, all music was forgotten as they embraced in their own sweet melody of passion and devotion. He stroked her hair gently, savoring the velvety curls beneath his fingertips. She stroked the cold outline of his porcelain mask, finally removing it as it fell freely to the floor. She traced the outline of his scars beneath her fingers hurriedly. They broke apart briefly, only to breathlessly finish:

Anywhere you go, let me go too  
Love me  
That's all I ask of you

Christine smiled "I love you"

"I love you too"

She groaned "Oh, if every singing lesson was like that, I wouldn't mind"

He laughed "I thought you loved those lessons! Besides, you have an incredible teacher"

She smiled seductively "Why don't you show me how incredible my teacher is?"

"I'd be delighted" he growled. They spent the remainder of the evening sitting on the piano bench, kissing and declaring their obvious love for each other and somewhere during the course of the evening, both of the young couple's doubts and worried thoughts about marriage melted away along with the time as they both dreamed and awaited the following day to come.

* * *

Please forgive that shameless piece of fluff I called a chapter. But, good news: The wedding is up next! Leave a review for a fast update and more shameless fluff! 


	16. Here Comes the Bride

_**Sweet Seduction**_

_Chapter Sixteen: Here Comes The Bride_

A/N: Here it is, the chap you've all been waiting for! The wedding! Now, it's **way** too long to be one chap, so good news: You guys get two wedding chapters! And, make sure you leave a review because... you could be the ONE HUNDRETH REVIEWER! This reviewer will get a special shout-out next chaper! So, leave a review to try to secure your place in "Sweet Seduction" 's history as the one hundreth reviewer! (or at least, make the authoress really happy!)

* * *

Christine let out a small gasp as she saw her reflection in the full length mirror. She looked just like one of the fairy-tale princesses she had only read about. The dress looked absolutely beautiful on her. As if it was- well, it _was_ made for her, but that didn't matter anyway. The light material shimmered and shone under the gentle lights of the church's dressing room. The beaded designs on the bodice looked even more exquisite when displayed across her full figure and the two crystals from the chandelier she had sewn right in the center of the bodice sparkled brilliantly when they caught the light, sending glorious crystal rainbows across the room. Her corset was pulled a bit tighter than usual, forcing up her small breasts into the modestly low neckline of the gown, but the corset was worth it when she saw how beautiful the fitted waist looked on her figure. The skirts flowed around her legs, rustling small waves of material every time she moved, and there was a tiny string of pearls along the hemline, with crystal stitching between each pearl. She lifted the skirts a bit to peek at her shoes, well, technically slippers. The shoes were soft, white patten ballet slippers she borrowed from Meg. She had been a dancer before she had become a singer, after all, and it was only fitting a little part of her ensemble reflected her best friend's passion and Christine's own childhood. 

Plus, it helped fill the requirements for a bride. She had an old pair of white stockings on, (the very same ones she'd worn the night after her debut in Erik's lair) a new pearl necklace Erik had bought for her, the borrowed ballet slippers from Meg, and she had discreetly slipped two blue hair clips beneath her mounds of curls. And oh, her hair! She would never have been able to fix it in such an elegantly, innocent style if not for Mme. Giry's help. Her hair was pulled up in a soft mounds of curls atop her head, with a few loose tendrils cascading down her back. She sighed, turning to look at Mme. Giry and Meg smiling behind her

"Oh thank you both so much! I've never felt so beautiful before. Just...Thank you both for everything."

"You are welcome dear child. You're certainly welcome" Mme. Giry sighed, dabbing her eyes with her handkerchief. She and Meg both looked truly gorgeous in their gowns. Meg's maid of honor gown was a beautiful light lilac color, and Mme. Giry wore a lovely satin peach gown fitting for the (symbolically) Mother of the Bride (and groom).

"Oh, Christine, your veil!" Meg gasped excitedly. She reverently lifted the exquisite veil from the box and gently placed it on Christine's head, nestling the fragile tiara that was attached to the veil among Christine's soft mounds of curls and fluffing out the veil, letting it flow down Christine's back. They both looked at her reflection in the mirror

"Oh Christine, you look so beautiful. Like a dream from heaven."

"Meg, thank you so much. Just for..everything you've done for me. I don't know what I would do if we hadn't become friends" she said, tears brimming in her eyes. They hugged and Mme. Giry came up behind Christine when they finally broke apart

"How do you feel child?"

"Excited, but maybe a little nervous. Everything is changing."

Mme. Giry took her hand "Not everything Christine. You still have your friends and your music and most importantly, you still have your memories of old times, and you can visit those whenever you like. And it's perfectly fine to be nervous. I was nervous at my wedding too and it was nowhere near as grand as this one will be!"

Christine smiled "I wish my father could be here"

Meg smiled "He is Christine. He's still here in spirit._ And in your shoes_" she whispered in Christine's ear, making her laugh. Because Meg's slippers were a bit big for Christine, they had stuffed the toes separately, her left one with her favorite of her father's songs in sheet music crumbled up in her left one, and her right shoe was stuffed was a gently-folded, small picture of her father she'd removed from its frame.

They finally stopped crying when they heard a knock at the door, and Isabelle, one of Christine's bridesmaids poked her head in the door

"Christine, if you're ready, we're ready to begin the wedding procession now"

Christine nodded "I'll be right up"

She looked at Meg and Mme. Giry as they started to leave "Well, this is it." she said

They nodded and Meg kissed her cheek before leaving. After they left, Christine stopped and stole another glance of herself in the mirror, singing softly to the spirit she knew was listening

_"Angel of Music, guide and guardian, grant to me your glory today"

* * *

_

Christine took a deep breath, looking out at the sight in front of her. She clutched the bouquet nervously, listening to the familiar chords of Pachelbel's Canon in D as the bridesmaids began the opening procession down the aisle. She watched the satin gowns and handsome suits gliding down the aisle arm in arm in tempo with the music. She watched Mme. Giry and Georges arm in arm walking together, both looking as nervous and giddy excited as she felt. It was no secret Mme. Giry still held a schoolgirl crush towards Georges and he was as giddy with excitement as a schoolboy when she was around. She watched Meg walk down the aisle with Jacques, most likely dreaming of her own wedding to him. Christine saw all these details and strangely enough, she didn't really notice or think about any of them. She fiddled nervously with her tiara and wished her corset wasn't so tight and her hands weren't shaking so badly and it wasn't so hot in here and this dress wasn't so heavy. She stopped her thoughts from rambling on farther. She hadn't been this nervous or scattered since _Don Juan_. Well, she pulled herself together then and she would now. It was just nerves. She hummed the closing chords to the Cannon and took a deep breath as the Wedding March began. The doors swung open, presenting the young bride to every person in attendance. She took her fist steps down the aisle alone and as she began, she could feel him next to her.

She knew her father was there, congratulating her, calming her nerves and encouraging her every step of the way. She could feel his unseen presence walking right beside her and knew he was smiling down on his little girl from above. And then, her gaze fell on the alter and she gave an inward gasp and smiled. Her angel was up there, as nervous and excited a she was, his mask gleaming to match his beaming, nervous smile. A flash of memories swept through her mind, wrapping themselves around her like a comforting fog as she continued her journey up there:

Singing with Erik last night, their passionate kiss, planning this day together, the Eiffel Tower, his proposal, the restaurant. The first time she said she loved him, singing with Erik at Don Juan, watching him move about the stage with an air of confidence she'd never seen, his presence in the cemetery and on the rooftop that night so long ago when she falsely confessed her love to Raoul, their first night down in Erik's lair, when she unmasked him for the first time, when he serenaded her, the boat ride, his magical first appearance in the mirror. Telling Meg of her secret tutor after her debut and singing from within her soul the night of her debut, knowing he listened down below, their voice lessons together, their stories and memories. Her father's stories of Little Lottie and her Angel of Music, the man standing before her today. The man she truly loved, that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. The man that had given her everything and shown her a love so passionate and deep, she didn't know how she had lived without it for so long. She knew the only place in this world she truly belonged was with him.

She felt her veil and gown softly trailing behind her, saw the masses of people all focused on her, the uniformed bridesmaids and their escorts, the priest the church, but she didn't really see or feel any of it. All she knew in that instant was the man up there, waiting for her, wanting her, loving her. She knew the only place she really belonged was in his arms, in his life. She finally made it, handing her bouquet off to Meg and gracefully lifting her gown to step up onto the alter and finally knowing she was ready to begin the rest of her life.

* * *

Erik waited nervously for his love to come up the aisle. He looked much more suave and confident than he felt, in a woolen, well-tailored, fancy tuxedo with ebony buttons, white silk bow tie, gloves and jacket lining. His polished black shoes and his black hair neatly slicked down and oiled gleamed under the soft yet bright lighting, creating a stark contrast to his porcelain white mask covering the right side of his face. He was beginning to get nervous. He hated whomever had arranged this century-old wedding procession. The groom had to stand there longer than anyone, watching in agony as at hundreds, probably thousands of (in reality, there were only eight) bridesmaids and their escorts walked slowly up the aisle. Even the familiar, romantic music failed to calm his nerves. He had always secretly dreamed of this day, always forcing himself to realize he would never be married or know of any love in his pathetic life, until she had prove him wrong only to raise his hopes, dash them and then send them soaring higher than he could ever imagine. What if she had second thoughts too? What if she didn't really want to do this? What if- 

And suddenly, all his doubts and questions and worries vanished as soon as the doors swung open and he laid eyes on her. She was an angel. She had never looked more beautiful. He felt his best man Jacques elbowing him lightly, but strangely, he didn't notice. He had been alone for so long and now finally, _finally_, there was someone in his life who truly loved him and cared for him. He never dreamed this day would ever come. He had spent so much of his life miserable, unloved and alone and at last, his dreams were coming true. She seemed to come up the aisle in a dreamy haze as an almost-identical flood of memories washed over him. He saw his life flashing before his eyes in that instant as his angel drew closer to the alter. He heard the crescendo and coming climax in the music and for the first time in his life, couldn't care less about the music or notes as Christine finally came a few feet from the alter and handed her bouquet to Meg. He offered her his arm, gazing at her smiling as she stepped up beside him. They both turned to the priest as he began the wedding vows, but neither one really heard the words that were spoken or their responses. Everything was happening so fast and yet, the two lovers seemed to be in a dreamlike fog. They were both busy imagining their life together, their plans and dreams, their entire lives before them. Neither one had ever cared so deeply for someone before. Neither one was prepared for the love and joy they would bring to each other's empty lives, until this moment. But, at present, the priest finally turned to Christine and after instructions, she repeated the loving words:

"I, Christine, take you, Erik, to be my friend, my lover, the father of our children and my husband. I will be yours in times of plenty and in times of want, in times of sickness and in times of health, in times of joy and in times of sorrow, in times of failure and in times of triumph. I promise to cherish and respect you, to care and protect you, to comfort and encourage you, and stay with you, for as long as we both shall live. I love you with all my heart, angel" she said looking into his eyes

When it was Erik's turn, he repeated the same loving words to her

"I, Erik, take you, Christine, to be my friend, my lover, the mother of our children and my wife. I will be yours in times of plenty and in times of want, in times of sickness and in times of health, in times of joy and in times of sorrow, in times of failure and in times of triumph. I promise to cherish and respect you, to care and protect you, to comfort and encourage you, and stay with you, for as long as we both shall live." he said, gazing into her beautiful eyes

He turned to the reverend "Father?" he asked "Before we go any further with the rings, may I add something?"

The reverend nodded, looking amused "Yes, monsieur, go ahead"

Erik took Christine's hand, looking at her "Christine, I just wanted to say that I have loved you for almost my entire life, ever since the moment I first heard you sing. I promise I will love you and protect you and guide you every wonderful moment we're to be husband and wife. Becoming your husband was something I once could only dream of and now, at long last, it's become sweet reality. You truly were my Angel of Music and I'm so happy right now that I can hardly speak. I needed to say that I have always loved you and will always love you every day of our lives and I needed to express my love for you in a way we both know is best: through music"

He cleared his throat softly and began singing

_Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime  
Lead me, save me from my solitude  
Say you want me with you, here beside you  
Anywhere you go let me go too  
Christine that's all I ask of... _

he gently slipped the ring onto her finger, while holding out the final note

_..You_

And unexpectantly, all of the guests in attendance burst into appluase at his heavenly singing, clapping and cheering loudly. Christine smiled as she saw her love's face turn red at the unexpected cheers and thought it was only fitting that he finally recieved the thunderous roundsof appluase he had been denied the night of Don Juan. He smiled and they both turned back towards the reverend. He cleared his throat

"And with this ring, (and that beautiful serenade), I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the..."

And before the reverend even finished the setence, they were already kissing, taking no care to hide their blazing passion or love for each other, savored in yet another sweet kiss. Erik picked Christine up and swung her around, her white dress and petticoats flying everywhere and glimmering brilliantly in a sparkling rush to match her smile. Erik absolutley beamed as he offered her his arm once more and they walked, now at long last, husband and wife into the white carriage, prepared to make the journey to the joyous wedding reception and their bright future together.

* * *

Please review for the even fluffier Part Two of the wedding ! 


	17. The Music of the Night

_**Sweet Seduction**_

_Chapter Seventeen: The Music of the Night_

A/N: Hello! I just got back from a wicked first day of school, and thougt you all might like a nice update when you come back from your first day too (whenever that may be)

So, Part Two of the wedding. **Warning:** I included a "wedding night" scene here, not extremley detailed, but rather steamy and if that sort of content makes you uncomfortable or you rather wouldn't read it, then just skip the bottom portion of the chapter, beneath the line. Otherwise, enjoy and please review!

* * *

Erik looked at Christine seated next to him at the banquet table. Their reception was by far one of the grandest Paris had ever seen. It was being held in _La Petite Auberge_, to everyone's (especially Erik's) delight. They had reserved the entire restaurant for the entire afternoon and evening, though most doubted the young bride and groom were going to stay _that_ late. The entire placed was covered in white and black :white and black banners, white lilies and black tulips as flowers, a white cake with black icing, and as a very bold touch, each guest received a white or black mask with the date and couple's name engraved on the back as a wedding favor. A string quartet played beautiful wedding waltzes in a corner and people chatted and moved around the room happily in their wedding finery, conversing before the reception started and congratulating the bride and groom. Christine sighed happily. This was truly the best day of her life. Erik looked around at all the splendor and beauty of the place, all in their honor. But even the gorgeous decorations and architecture couldn't begin to compare with his wife's beauty. 

_His wife. _It felt so wonderful to finally be able to say (well, think) those words. At long last, Christine truly was his wife. He had a wife. He was married. He was her husband. She was his wife. He knew he would be basking in those simple expressions for weeks, maybe even months. So would Christine. She couldn't believe she was actually married. To her angel. To the Phantom of the Opera. To Erik. It was just so unbelievably amazing that this had actually happened to them both. Neither of them could imagine what could be more wonderful than this. Well, except for children. Maybe they would have an entire family. That would be the only thing that could make their lives more perfect than they were right now. Maybe...

The sudden clinking of crystal against a glass snapped both the lovebirds out of their daydreams. It was time for Meg and Jacques to make their wedding toasts. Meg went first, turning to the couple

"Erik Christine, I've known you both for almost my entire life and I must say, I don't believe I've ever seen anyone hold more affections for each other than you do. I really believe that you two will have the best possible life together. I don't know where I would be today if I hadn't been blessed with these two angels coming into my life and sharing their love and kindness for each other with me and everyone around them. I only wish that your parents could be here to share in this joyous occasion with us" she said, as the room feel respectfully silent for a moment before Meg continued "But, I'm sure we all know that they are here in spirit and smiling down on you both from heaven. I know you both will continue to share your love and your passion and gifts for music with the world, and that's all anyone could ask for, besides blessings and happiness for your new life" she finished, dabbing her eyes with her handkerchief as everyone cried "Hear hear!" and drank in their honor.

Now it was Jacques' turn for the toast and Erik was starting to feel a little nervous. Meg's maid of honor speech was thoughtful and sentimental as it was supposed to be, but he had heard that best men sometimes went a little over the top with their speeches if they had a little too much wine. He hoped that Jacques wasn't going to make a fool of himself with any stupid risque jokes or sexual innuendos that would make all the sober men in the room cringe.

" And now for the toast" Jacques cleared his throat "I would just like to extend my deepest congratulations to the bride and groom. I've only been friends with them for a few months, but it's obvious how much these two love each other and everyone knows they're going to have a great life together, especially once their Opera House re-opens. I believe that may be the one thing Mademoiselle- I mean _Madame_ Destler loves more than her husband!" he teased

Christine's face flushed red as Erik laughed good-naturedly along with the crowd. Jacques continued

"Oh, you know I'm only joking Christine. Only someone that loves music as much as she and Erik do would get married on the anniversary of Christine's opera debut! You two were made for each other and I know everyone here is happy you two finally decided on the date!"

Most people laughed politely at that

"But, I do know you two are going to have a wonderful life together. Everyone here knows how much you love each other, and how lucky you both are and I'm sure I speak for everyone when I say, we all wish you nothing but the best for your life together. And now, enough of these sentiments! We all should be celebrating and having fun. But not you two though, because God knows you're going to have enough of it tonight!"

That brought a hearty round of laughs from everyone and made both the bride and groom turn beet red. Everyone clinked their crystal glasses in unison waiting for a kiss, which Christine and Erik were happy to provide. Georges started to clink his glass again when Mme. Giry stayed his hand, calling out "Georges, don't make them kiss again. They certainly don't need any more encouragement!"

Everyone chuckled at that too. Meg called out excitedly to the bride and groom "Erik, Christine, come on! It's time to cut the cake!"

Erik and Christine rose as the crowd gathered around the table. Meg handed the knife to Erik, who motioned to Christine. She lightly grasped his hands with her own and they both waited four seconds before pressing down and making the first cut of the cake as everyone applauded. After everyone had feasted on the delicious cake and the other plethora of nuts, fruit, meats, sugared candies, sweetmeats, pastries and tarts, it was time for the first dance. Erik nodded to Georges at the piano, who started playing a very soft, yet heavily accompanied version of "The Music of the Night". Erik grasped Christine's hand and led her out to the center of the floor, where candles provided the only light, softly illuminating the young couple as darkness fell. They began to dance, as Erik instantly took the lead. She followed his movements precisely in every way, two lovers moving as one. He whirled her around the dance floor, hearing the stiff swish of her skirt and the soft patter of her dancing slippers and gently dipped her as the key changed into a harsher tone. He spun Christine around and she gracefully extended her arm out, spinning back into his strong arms. They elegantly twirled around the floor, matching their movements precisely with the music's tempo. They waltzed in that magical moment for what seemed like eternity, until they finally heard the last note being played and the chords suspending over it as Erik spun Christine dramatically around for one last time and lifted her up into the air as Georges struck the final note. The guests applauded wildly as Christine curtsied and Erik bowed and Georges stood up to receive his recognition.

The evening wore on, dance after dance as hearts beat faster and the wine in many guests' glasses disappeared slowly. Meg and Jacques performed a very fast, exciting yet romantic ballet number from _Swan Lake_ and Erik gave Georges a break from playing so Georges and Mme. Giry could dance to a romantic duet as Christine sang and Erik accompanied her. Eventually, the guests dwindled away as it grew darker and finally Christine and Erik were all alone. He sat, kissing her again on the piano bench before the restaurant employees came to tidy up. He looked at her

"Are you all ready for tonight, my dear?"

"Yes, I think so. I've packed an overnight bag. Where are we going?"

"Oh, you're going to need much more than that for the honeymoon, but it should suffice for tonight"

"Oh, all right. I'll go change out of this dress" she said, starting to get up. Erik grabbed her wrist, sitting her back down "Wait, why don't you just leave your wedding dress on?"

"Erik, that's not the normal way the-"

"Christine" Erik said laughing "What about our courtship, engagement or wedding has been 'normal'?" he asked

She considered it "Well..."

"Besides, you look beautiful in it. Just take the veil off" he suggested. She did, carefully placing it into her small bag for the night. Erik escorted her out to the beautiful carriage decorated with small bells and white ribbons, where Erik told her to close her eyes for the trip.

"Erik, why? I would like to-"

"Christine, please? For me?" he asked, pretending to pout.

She smiled "All right. They're closed" she said, leaning back against the carriage seat. They talked and laughed on the way there, and Erik knew the expression on Christine's face was priceless when she saw their destination

"Oh, Erik, the seashore! This is the same place where my father and I..." she trailed off nostalgically, tears brimming in her eyes "This is going to be a perfect honeymoon. Thank you so much!" she cried, hugging him. He laughed

"Christine, you're insulting me again. This isn't the honeymoon. This is just for tonight" he said

She looked around "But if this isn't the honeymoon..." she trailed off

"Christine, believe me, our honeymoon will make this seashore look like a puddle" he said. She glanced at him oddly "I'll explain it later. But right now, we need to make a long overdue stay in a little cottage called Musica Angelica"

She laughed "Oh, I stayed there so many summers! How did you manage to rent it? In December no less?" she asked astounded

"I have my ways" he said

They trudged up the path to Christine's familiar cottage and Erik, of course, carried Christine over the worn threshold, sending her upstairs to go change. He lit a fire to warm up the dreadfully cold little rooms and went upstairs to get changed himself

* * *

Christine sat in the bed beneath the warm, woolen covers, waiting for her husband to enter. She really didn't know what to expect or how she was supposed to act. Mme. Giry had told her, very discreetly off course, about what it was like for a woman on her wedding night, but it only confused her all the more. What was it like? Was it truly the most wonderful pleasure a married couple could engage in, or was it really all the disgusting and rude terms she'd heard it been called over the years? Was she really ready for this? Was Erik- 

She ceased her worrying as soon as Erik stepped in in only pants and a silken blue robe, his face almost as red as she was sure hers was at the moment. She had no idea Erik was even more nervous than she. He certainly had never been with a woman before. What was he supposed to do? Act like? Did he just make the first move or wait for her? As much as he desired her and wanted her, he was so nervous.

Christine smiled, breaking the ice "I think we're both more comfortable on stage than we are right now"

He forced a weak laugh "I agree"

He watched as Christine, suddenly gaining a little more confidence, slipped the heavy covers down from her body, revealing the same exquisite nightgown she had worn exactly one year ago in his lair after her debut. She had already removed her stockings and slippers. Erik marveled at the sight of her. She had never looked more angelic or innocent. Her hair was a loose and wild mess of curls, resting freely on her shoulders. Her skin was so pale and flawless, he could barely tell where her smooth skin stopped and the nightgown began. Her breasts were pushed up farther than usual in her elaborate corset they were both yearning to rip off. She looked so petite and fragile, he didn't want to harm her, yet he knew this was it. He couldn't contain his desire for her any longer.

As if reading his mind, she laid down suddenly, pulled him down over top of her and kissed him, seeking all the pleasure and warmth she could find in his firm touch. She ran her fingers through his hair, dragging her hand slowly down his neck and around to his powerful, muscular chest. He let his hands explore a bit, feeling her soft, smooth skin, her gorgeous slim waist, the tantalizing rise and fall of her breasts beneath her sheer nightgown. He kissed her harder than before, seeking all the love and desire he'd always yearned for. They both fell onto the bed, panting, their hearts both pounding with anticipation and pleasure. Christine stopped kissing him for a moment, exclaiming breathlessly

"Erik?"

"Hmm?"

"I trust you Angel." she said, saying all he needed to hear.

He resumed kissing her, passionately and harsh, and she responded with a need that was warm and hungry and blind, only wanting him right now in their rush of pleasure.

She slid his silken robe off and began unbuttoning his thin shirt beneath it, throwing it off to the floor when she finished. He followed her lead, ripping off her sheer lacy robe off of her flaming body, leaving her in only her nightgown, corset, and thin petticoats. He eagerly slid the nightgown off her body in a flash of twisting fabric and bunches of lace. She moaned with pleasure as he trailed sweet kisses down her neck. He felt the sheer material of her petticoats, torturing her by running the lace up and down her shapely, thin legs before tearing them off. He began fumbling with her confining corset laces, slowly undoing them one by one, watching her breasts move, little by little until he finally freed her of her restraints, and she drew in a deep breath as she watched him toss it onto the floor, trying to laugh.

"I've been dying to do that since, oh, I put it on this morning." she gasped breathlessly. Erik looked at her, the first sight of her womanly body, freed beneath him. She was no longer the innocent young angel he had fallen in love with after this night, true, but she would be his angel. And nothing would please either of them more.

"I love you" he gasped as she began fumbling awkwardly with the waistband of his pants. She spent the slow moments admiring him, his muscular chest and strong hands, his firm arms and rough desire and lust began conquering them both. Every moment was torture until finally she succeeded and another article of clothing was thrown to the floor. Neither one of them realized nor cared it was the middle of winter as they burned in the heat of their passionate embrace. But suddenly Christine removed his mask in a sharp, quick moment before he could stop her as he felt the rush of cool air on his sweaty face. He opened his mouth to protest, but she silenced him with a kiss, breaking apart to say

"Erik, please. I love you. I want to see your face, not your mask. I want to see all of my angel"

He sighed "I trust you"

She kissed him again, more fervently than before and proceeded to drag her lips over his deformity, kissing each little groove and scar gently, feeling the rough, twisted skin beneath her soft mouth. The deformity was part of him. It made him who he was and she had no problem accepting that. Erik gasped as the unimaginable pleasure engulfed them both and in that moment, no hellfire could have been hotter. Erik breathlessly started singing

"_What raging fire should flood the soul?_

_What rich desire unlocks its door?_

_What sweet seduction lies before us?"_

Christine gasped and then lightly moaned with pleasure in that moment when the two friends, lovers, soul mates, were finally united as one.

Eventually, the candles in the bedroom burned dim into a wavering flame before going completely out, covering the two lovers in total darkness as they concluded their passionate display. They both knew that night as they surrounded themselves in the eternal heat and pleasure that there was no one on earth they could possibly love more. Before the blessed moment when the flame would at last die and darkness would let them rest, Christine sang softly into the darkness

"_You alone have made my song take flight._

_At last we've made the music of the night"

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Way too detailed? Tacky? Just enough? Not enough? Review (not flame!) and let me know what you think.


	18. What A Blessed Release

_**Sweet Seduction**_

_Chapter Eighteen: What a Blessed Release_

A/N: Oh my gosh, I forgot the shout out last chap! Eek, so sorry. Ahem

The one-hundreth reviewer was...candybaby92! Congrats and thanks for reviewing! And thanks goes out to all my other absolutley wonderful reviewers too for their reviews. ;)

Okay, I'll stop blabbering. Here's the update:

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Christine walked around excitedly, humming "Masquerade" to herself as she moved about the opera House's ballroom. It had been only four days since she and Erik had returned from their honeymoon. And oh, what a wonderful honeymoon it was! They traveled to countries all over Europe. They had spent a week going to Spain and Italy, tasting all the rich, exotic foods, even making their own wine in one of the numerous vineyards in Italy and they went to lots of sightseeing attractions like museums and concert halls, a few operas and even a Spanish bull fight. They spent another week in Rome and Erik had taken Christine to lots of the ancient coliseums and judicial houses, and they had spent a wonderful evening at Ttrevi Fountains, kissing under the starlight and spraying mist. From there they went to Ireland and Christine still laughed at the memory of her and Erik awkwardly trying to do an Irish "jig" at a local tavern when they were both extremely inebriated. Although it had been sort of romantic in a strange, comical way. After Ireland, they spent a brief stay in Holland, where they had seen all the windmills in the city and picked tulips like every other traveler to press and preserve them, and Erik had even managed to (messily) braid a few into a crown which Christine wore the rest of the day. Finally, before returning to Paris, Erik took Christine to Sweden for a few days as a surprise. There they attended a service at the old church Christine used to go to, visited with some of her old friends and neighbors to reminisce and introduce her new husband and of course, visited her father's grave before the two day journey by carriage back to Paris.

Two weeks may have seemed like a long time for a honeymoon, but not every day was spent productively sightseeing and enjoying the area. Some days Erik and Christine had gotten up earlier and had every intention of keeping an itinerary, but they were young and in love and on their honeymoon in a foreign country, and some days they found their bedroom was a bit more exciting than experiencing the local culture. Of course, they did eventually go out to do some activity on those days, like a very late lunch or wander around, but they both were perfectly happy no matter what pleasure they were engaging in. And of course, they'd brought home plenty of souvenirs for themselves and their friends. Christine had bought all sorts of extraneous dresses in bright colors with shorter skirts and stripped petticoats, lacy, soft shoes and boots, plenty of those new photograph cards and lots of exotic flowers, bottles of scent and tiny figurines. And Erik had gorged himself on many new, exotic instruments he was determined to learn to play and dozens of pages of sheet music and librettos from foreign Italian and Spanish operas, like that new scandalous one _Carmen_. He had gathered a few little trinkets too, nothing that extravagant, for the honeymoon itself was the greatest treasure he could ask for.

Of course, there had been a few downsides to it. Like having money converted from francs to pesos to lilas and so on. And, on a few occasions, people hadn't been very open-minded about Erik's mask. A few people in the various plazas and public places they'd visited had the nerve to hiss or jeer at him, and a few even covered their eyes or the eyes of their children. He certainly couldn't forget that night he and Christine tried to get into a Spanish restaurant only to have the owner tell them "Ninguana admission por diablo mascara"_ "No admission for masked devils"_, since Spanish culture influenced the belief that people wore masks to contain the devils within them, hence the tradition of All Hallow's Eve where evil spirits wore masks to disguise themselves. Well, Christine couldn't speak Spanish, but before Erik could translate or say a word she had talked the restaurant owner's ear off in a mixture of English, a few various Spanish phrases (and curses) and furious gestures and stormed out of the lobby dragging Erik behind her, red faced and lips drawn, furious at the ignorance of the restaurant owner and Spain in general. Erik somehow, found he could only smile at how angry she was. He would never have believed a year ago that today he would be in Spain, with a wonderful wife, on their honeymoon, to be denied entrance somewhere because of his mask and have his wife stand up for him. A lot could happen in a year. Other than a few minor occurrences like that, the honeymoon had been wonderful, full of excitement and fun and wonderful romance..

"Erik" Georges said, nudging him back into the present "I believe your wife is ready for the ball" he said, motioning to Christine waltzing around the ballroom, humming to herself. Erik smiled. It was December thirtieth and the Masquerade Ball was tomorrow. The ballroom was almost ready, undergoing some last minute decorations and changes. Christine and Erik had dropped by only to find they were needed there for the rest of the day before the ball. The entire room was nearly empty, except for him, Georges, Christine and two workers. The place was almost finished, and a big red ribbon had been tied around the grand staircase for tomorrow's grand re-opening. Erik and Georges would cut the ribbon, of course, and Christine would be singing a short, festive aria to begin the ball. It looked like she was practicing a bit already, dancing with an imaginary partner across the ballroom with her eyes closed.

Erik grinned "She's ready all right. Georges, if you would excuse me" Erik said, dumping his clipboard and various books into a nearby chair, then smoothly coming over to Christine. He swiftly took her hand and grabbed her waist, pulling her closer to him as he began leading her in a waltz around the ballroom. Her eyes fluttered open in surprise and she smiled upon seeing who her partner was

"Oh, I see the Phantom can dance too" she giggled

"My dear, you know I'm a man of many talents" he said smoothly, twirling her about and watching her effortlessly fall back into step.

"The ballroom looks beautiful already Erik. You and Georges did a fantastic job"

"Christine, we didn't actually do any of this, we merely planned it. The staff did all the work."

"Which is basically the story of your life" she pointed out

He chuckled "I suppose it is."

"So, what's the color theme this year?" she asked conversationally

"White, black and red" he answered quickly

"What's the red for?" she asked. Normally colors for a masque that weren't for a holiday were simply white and black, occasionally allowing silver and gold for special occasions.

"Well" he began, spinning her around the dance floor "The white's for purity and innocence, goodness light and black is the exact opposite of that: wickedness, darkness, mystery, secrets. They are opposites, so it compliments the-"

"Erik" she said sighing exasperatedly "I know all of this already. I asked you what the red is for"

He dipped her down gently "The red my dear" he growled in a love voice "is for _passion_"

She sighed as he lifted her back up and began trailing soft kisses down her neck. She gently stroked the outline of his mask

"Well, for once you can just blend in, thank goodness. Unless..." she said suspiciously

"Unless what?"

"Unless you're planning another grand entrance like you made last year"

He smiled at the memory of it

"Yes, that was rather extravagant, wasn't it? Oh, that was a great ball" he said

She rolled her eyes at the memory of it. Frightening half of France, the managers, her finance and herself and entering in a red death costume was a strange idea of a "great ball"

"In fact" he continued "I might even wear the same suit. I still have it you know"

She burst out laughing "You wouldn't!"

"I would"

"Don't you dare"

He grinned wickedly, twirling her around until they were hidden from sight behind a pillar, where he began kissing her vehemently "Like I said earlier my dear" he said "Red is for _passion_"

* * *

Georges sighed nostalgically, seeing the two lovers waltzing around the ballroom. They were so happy together, so deeply in love. It made him miss his dear, departed Annabelle all the more. She had died almost ten years ago, from the cancer and Georges couldn't do anything to stop it except sit idly by, watching the pain consume her as she faded away. Her last wish was that he would love someone else in his life and marry again once she was gone. At the time, it almost seemed treacherous to promise her that, but he couldn't deny his wife her dying wish. And ten years had rolled by slowly. Well, things were starting to pick up since his new job. Erik and Jacques certainly were great friends, even if Erik was sometimes bit quiet and mysterious. The man never revealed anything about him, other than his love for his wife and music. Well, Georges could certainly identify with that. He adored finally having a job in music for once. And Georges had been paying more attention to Marie Giry, ever since they both danced at Erik's wedding. He wouldn't bring himself to admit he may have an attraction towards her. She was certainly the complete opposite of anything his Annabelle was with her strict manner and brisk speech and strong presence. Still, maybe his surprise for her tomorrow at the ball would impress her. After all, you were never too old to find true love

* * *

On the other side of town, Raoul de Changy crept silently through the night, his silence and stealth almost comparable to that of his rival's. Those asylum workers were idiots, leaving the kitchen door unlocked and unguarded for once, though it had benefited him immensely. He had been plotting his escape for quite some time now, and it was finally time to exert some vengeance on that blasted Phantom and win his sweetheart back. His timing was opportune too. He had seen a flier yesterday that had been mistakenly left in the common area for a Masque at the Paris Opera House "Come celebrate our grand re-opening with all of Paris at this preview of the newly furnished Opera House and Masquerade Ball!" it beckoned. Raoul finally put his plan into action this evening. Swiping some asylum employee's clothes from the laundry basket, his remaining money and few possessions and he had set off in the night in a race to Paris. Hopefully by tomorrow, he could finally win the woman that was rightfully his. And all he needed was a mask... 


	19. And What A Masquerade!

_**Sweet Seduction**_

_Chapter Nineteen: And What A Masquerade!_

_A/N: TGIF! Here's the next update, hope you enjoy and REVIEW!

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Christine laughed gaily as she watched the couples swirling around the ballroom. It was such a beautiful sight to behold. Who could have ever imagined that less than a year after the fire and chandelier disaster, the opera house would be restored almost to more glory and splendor than before, and once again holding their glorious masquerade ball. She hummed along with the waltz tune, lightly swaying back and forth, watching her skirt and petticoats swish stiffly in time with the music. Her dress this year truly was beautiful. It was completely white with off the shoulder cupped sleeves, and delicate false rosebuds sewn in intricate lines and patterns all over the bodice and dress and the hem was entirely bright red. Her mask was a beautiful creation she'd thrown together, using one of Erik's old mask, but decorated with false rosebuds and lilies, some glitter and lots of dangling lace and ribbon. She had even embedded small white lilies and red roses within the crosses and braids of her curls cascading down her almost-bare back.

She sighed impatiently. Erik and Georges had already cut the grand ribbon, officially re-opening the Opera House and all the performers sang "Masquerade" to begin the ball and she'd performed her aria and now the ball was beginning to pick up, with one waltz after the next. She wished Erik would enter already so they could waltz together, instead of forcing her to politely flirt with the other bachelors and husbands and dance with them like she knew she should out of politeness. Fortunately, at that moment, Meg waved to her across the ballroom floor and came hurrying over to where Christine was standing.

"Oh Christine!" she said excitedly "This is all so grand! Imagine, a masquerade just like the ones in the old days"

Christine smiled "Meg, what do you mean 'old days'? We had a Masquerade just last year!" she pointed out

"I know, but that one was nowhere near as special as this one, don't you think?"

"Well, I think they were both special" Christine said, smiling nostalgically

They waved as two of their old friends waltzing together passed them.

"Oh, did you see Jacques' costume yet?" Meg asked

"No, I didn't. Where is he?"

"Over there, by the refreshment table. He's fetching us both drinks. He's such a dear! Anyway, we're matching this year. I'm an angel" Meg said, as she swirled around gesturing to her flowing white gown and stuffed wings and white mask "and he's a devil" she said, and Christine noticed Jacques' black devil costume, mask and little horns. She giggled

"He certainly is a handsome devil"

"He certainly is" Meg said distractedly. She shook her head

"Haven't you danced with anyone yet?" Meg asked conversationally

"No, I'm still waiting for Erik to waltz with"

"Christine" she sighed "You won't get to dance at all if you keep waiting for him. He and Georges are so busy right now. I heard they're planning something special for mother"

"Like what? Is it a surprise?"

Meg nodded "Yes, but don't let on that I told you. I don't think I was supposed to know. And whatever you do, don't let my mother hear you-"

"Don't let me hear what, Meg Giry?" Mme. Giry said suspiciously. She was still dressed in black, as always, but added some festive touches such as a lowered neckline and slightly shorter skirt, white stockings and white stars all over her costume. Jacques came up behind her, offering the drinks he'd fetched to all the ladies

"She was just telling me that I shouldn't let you hear me complaining" Christine finished quickly

"About what child? It's a ball" Mme. Giry asked

"Well, Erik isn't here yet and I started to bore of waiting around to waltz-"

"And I was just telling her that she should at least waltz with some other men. Just to be polite"

Mme. Giry nodded in approval "That's a very polite thing to suggest, Meg. I'm pleased with you. Christine, you should take her advice. It wouldn't do for the Prima Donna to be a wallflower when there are young men wanting to enjoy your company" she said, nudging her out onto the dance floor as the waltz ended. Meg took a small sip of her wine and put it down quickly

"Come, Jacques, let's dance" she said

Jacques set his cup down, looking at Mme. Giry "May we have your permission, Mme. Giry?" he asked formally

Meg pleaded "Please mother?"

"All right, I suppose" she sighed

Meg smiled "Merci maman. Come Jacques, another waltz is starting" she said, leading him out onto the dance floor, laughing as they effortlessly fell into step with the others. Christine stood to the side of the floor, looking for any available dance partner. She supposed Mme. Giry was right: her position as Prima Donna did suggest she should be polite and socialize with some of the other men here tonight. At least until Erik showed up.

The first dance partner she found was a very young man, some heir to a clothing factory who was as awkward as a young colt with dancing and was nearly shocked at the thought of Christine dancing with him. She quickly made her polite excuses when the waltz was over and then found a second dancing partner, a very old fellow who seemed to be bored stiff and not at all pleasant to dance with. After him, she danced with a good-looking younger fellow who seemed to be at ease gracefully dancing with her, until she tried to start a conversation to discover he wasn't all that bright. She sighed as the third waltz ended

"Erik, where are you?" she whispered softly. Enough was enough. She was tired of being polite and socially correct. She'd like to at least have one dance at the Masquerade ball with her husband, so she set off towards the grand staircase to go find him. A fleeting moment of panic crossed her mind when she saw a man in red coming down the staircase and she thought for an instant Erik really _was_ going to make an entrance like he had last year, but she relaxed when she saw it wasn't Erik. Suddenly, before she could begin ascending up the staircase, a gloved hand grasped her own. She turned to find a rather handsome young man with copper-colored hair and a rather large mask grasping her hand and softly bringing it to his lips in the polite gesture

"Mademoiselle, surely you are not leaving the ball so soon?"

"Well, no-" she stammered awkwardly "You see, I mean, my hus-"

"Aren't you enjoying the party?" he asked innocently

"Of course I am, monsieur, but, you see..." she trailed off, trying to think of an excuse

He looked at her innocently

"While you try to remember why you were leaving, would you like to dance?"

Christine sighed. She was so tired of this, but the man seemed so sincere

"Please?"

She sighed "All right, just one dance" she relented

"On my honor, only one dance"

He gently took her hand and led her out onto the dance floor. He bowed as she gently curtseyed and then placed her white gloved hand in his and the other on his strong shoulder in the proper position. He grasped her quite firmly by her waist, pulling her far closer to him than was proper. She felt his strong arm as it slid around her waist, forcing her against him so abruptly she nearly fell onto him. His mouth curved in a slightly shocked and yet, apologetic way. She stared at him for a moment

_Who does this gentleman think he is, pulling me like that ?_ she thought in annoyance

She purposefully put a bit of distance between them and he didn't seem to mind. Clearing her throat, she begrudgingly began another conversation

"So monsieur, I do not believe we've been introduced" she said sweetly

"And we won't be" he responded frankly.

She looked at him oddly "Pardon me?"

"Mademoiselle, it's a masquerade. No one is supposed to know whom they are dancing with until the conclusion of the evening. Have you forgotten?"

She was momentarily speechless. That rule was still in existence, yes, but everyone ignored it. The masks were just a fun fashion accessory that was required, but served no purpose. Apparently they did to this man.

Well, she'd been having a pretty dull evening. She could use a little fun.

"Of course you're right monsieur. How careless of me to ask. I apologize"

"There isn't any apology necessary, mademoiselle. It was only a simple error. I imagine you've been having a rather...polite evening thus far"

She smiled "That's a mild way of putting things."

He laughed "Well, it's a ball. It's practically a crime for a beautiful young lady such as yourself to not be enjoying the evening. I'm surprised you haven't been mobbed by suitors already"

"No, not quite."

"So, is this your first Masquerade?"

"No, I've been to a few before. They are quite enjoyable"

"Indeed they are. I should rephrase: Is this your first _Parisian_ Masquerade ball then?"

Christine smiled enthusiastically. Finally, someone who didn't know who she was! The man had no idea she was the Prima Donna here or what her name even was. He also had no idea she was married. Well, she deserved a bit of fun, and she was definitely angry at Erik right now enough to want a little revenge. Why not see if she could still attract an eager young man, if only in jest?

"Yes, it is and I must say, I'm enjoying it much more than the others"

"Why is that?"

"Well, the others didn't have such handsome young men as you" she said, batting her eyelashes

He laughed "Surely you tease."

"Would I dare joke about something that sincere?" she asked in mock offense

The man laughed "I certainly hope not. I do apologize then mademoiselle. I would never dream a lady would lie. Especially one as angelic-looking as yourself"

"Merci monsieur. That is most kind"

For some reason Christine couldn't explain, she felt naturally at ease with this gentleman, so familiar and comfortable with him. Maybe it was his gentle, yet precise movements, or his swift manner, or perhaps it was just his mysterious airs that had grasped her interest. He almost looked familiar.

"So monsieur" she continued "We haven't spoken of you much. If you don't mind my boldly asking-"

"Of course not mademoiselle, ask whatever you wish"

"What do you do for a living monsieur? Your speech is so perfect, surely you either must work in Paris or you're amazingly intelligent in foreign languages"

He laughed "As much as I would like to say the latter, I can't. I live and work in Paris. Excuse the boasting, but my family has a bit of money and I try to charitably donate it to as many worthy causes as possible"

"Well that is certainly a worthwhile cause monsieur."

"Yes, and very rewarding. In fact, I believe I donated money to this very Opera a year ago. I attended last year's Masquerade as well"

"Oh that must have been very enjoyable"

"It was indeed. Especially the, ahem, guest appearance by the striking gentleman in red"

Christine stiffened a little. The man was getting a bit too familiar for her tastes. Fortunately at that moment, the waltzes abruptly stopped and all the couples turned to find Erik, Georges and over a hundred women in costumes on the staircase. Erik called for their attention

"Ladies and gentlemen, I beg pardon for the interruption, but we would like your attention for a few moments. We have a further celebration to add to our glorious ball. Monsieur Beaumont" he said, gesturing to Georges

"Thank you Monsieur Destler. As many of our older guests may know, our ballet instructor, Madame Marie Giry, has been instructing ballet as the Head Ballet Mistress for over thirty years now. And we feel, with this glorious new re-opening, it is high time to honor one of our most dedicated and talented instructors we at the Opera Populaire have ever seen. The past few weeks while amongst the preparations for this glorious ball, we have been contacting and transporting over a hundred of the little, now grown women who have studied under our brilliant Mme. Giry and almost all of the ballerinas we contacted were able to come tonight. They have prepared something rather special in mind. And now, Mme. Giry, if you would" he motioned for her to come up the staircase. She began walking up embarrassedly as the ball guests cheered her on.

"We would like you to see how you have inspired and shaped the dancing careers of these fabulous ladies who have studied under your care." Georges cleared his throat "Thirty years ago, a rather young lady named Marie Giry put together her very first ballet routine for a Masquerade Ball to be held at the Opera House and since then , that dance has been performed by the young ladies of the ballet corps every year at the annual Masquerade Ball. So, I feel it is only fitting that that dance be performed once more by some of the original members of that ballet corps and many more besides. Mme. Jalousie, if you will" Georges motioned to the ballerina at the bottom of the staircase. She nodded and began playing a soft, lively dance on her flute while the hundreds of girls on the staircase began gracefully dancing.

Mme. Giry dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief with the dance went on and hugged Erik and Georges, making all three of them rather red in the face. She whispered to Erik "Oh thank you. How did you two put this all together?"

He looked down at her "Marie, don't look at me, I had almost nothing to do with this. It was all Georges' idea"

She whirled around to face him

"Georges, you did this?"

He nodded "I just wanted to do something special for you. Surprise"

She sighed "Oh thank you Georges! This is the most wonderful thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you so much" she said, planting a swift kiss on his cheek. Erik moved a little further away to leave them alone and to look for his wife. Where was she by the way?

After the first dance, the ballerinas continued dancing on the staircase and soon all the couples on the dance floor resumed their waltzes. Christine once again began whirling around with her dance partner. He smiled

"Mademoiselle, if you don't mind me asking, are you sure you've never been this Opera's Masquerade before?"

"Yes, of course. Why ever would you think otherwise monsieur?"

"Well, I seem to remember last year a rather stunning young lady in pink who shared a striking resemblance to you. In fact, she could even pass for your twin. Are you two familiar with each other?"

She felt her face growing red "No, I don't believe-"

She stopped when she saw the amused grin on the man's face

"Yes. I suppose I have been telling stories. I'm Christine Daae, the Prima Donna here. I just made up something because I was so relieved someone didn't recognize me for once"

She stopped, biting her lip in embarrassment

"That sounded a bit conceited, didn't it?"

He laughed "Not to worry Christine. We all stumble over our tongues once in a while"

She grinned mischievously "Well, monsieur, I am sorry I broke the cardinal rule of the Masquerade. Now that you know my name, would you tell me yours?"

He looked thoughtful for a moment

"Actually, mademoiselle, I believe I can introduce you to something you may find far more familiar" he said, spinning her gracefully around the ballroom until they were hidden from sight behind a massive staircase. She looked around nervously, her mind frozen. She hadn't meant for anything to go this far. She was only flirting with the lad as a joke. He knew that right? Oh, she never should have done that.

She cleared her throat "Monsieur, I believe we've taken a wrong turn. Let's just go back over where we were. There's a much better view" she said lightly, starting to walk away. He grabbed her wrist, pulling her body back against his

"Actually, I think the view is perfectly fine right here"

She started to resist against him, but he pulled her body back against his, holding her arms gently in front of her with his own. Suddenly her sense of panic was replaced with sudden nostalgia. Could this truly be- no, it was only her imagination. But suddenly the man gently began singing in her ear

"_Then say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime  
let me lead you from your solitude  
Say you need me with you here, beside you"_

Christine felt strangely comforted in his arms, for reasons she couldn't explain. There was something so familiar about this stranger. His voice, low and sweet, was like a strange memory from some long-forgotten dream. She recalled the feeling of being in his arms before. She knew this man. It was him. It had to be. This couldn't just be her imagination anymore. How else could he know the song? Who else had ever held her like that? She whirled around to face him as he continued

"_Anywhere you go, let me go too  
Christine, that's all I ask of-"_

"You!" she cried, ripping off his mask. She felt the sense of panic return. It really was Raoul. He was here, in front of her, with that same demonic fire in his eyes. She felt more frightened than ever before He'd come back for her.

"Surprise" he said

She gasped "How could you? How are you- no, this can't be,. You're in that asylum. You can't be here!" she screamed shrilly

He forcefully turned her around, cutting off her chance of leaving by forcing her back against the wall literally. He laughed

"Christine, you really are so naïve. Did you think a little thing like an asylum would stop me from getting back to the woman I love?" he asked tauntingly

She shot back "Well, that's unfortunate on your part, for I certainly don't love you!"

"Oh, really? You seemed to be pretty content with me just now. Tell me, has your little Phantom ever held you like that? Does he really know how to please you, or is he too busy being an Angel?" he asked sarcastically

Like a flash, her hand moved up sharply, stinging his face as her hand collided with his skin in a sharp, cold slap. He laughed again, making her even more furious

"I don't believe you would sink so low. You paid that man to act like my father, to purposefully deceive me!"

"As if you didn't deceive me, you little bitch! You told me you loved me, that you'd help me with my plan-"

"Raoul, I said no such thing! I never agreed to that-"

"Making me the fool all that time because you were in love with your angel. But hes' not really an angel, is he? He's just a man with a demon for a face and soul"

She moved to slap him again, but he caught her wrist in his firm grasp. He turned around, forcing her back against the marble pillar behind her. His face was a few inches from hers.

"Do not do that again, Christine or I promise you will regret it"

"Make me" she whispered furiously, instantly regretting her words as he twisted her arm in his grasp, shooting pain up through her arm. He grinned wickedly

"Tell me the truth, Christine, if you could manage. Do you really love him?"

"Of course!"

"Really? You never wanted a normal husband? Never wanted someone to take care of you, to love _you_ more than his music?"

"He does love me! How dare you say-"

"Than where is he now, Christine? Hmm? Why isn't he here protecting you?" he said sarcastically, finally releasing her arm. He watched with pleasure as she struggled to keep from kneeling in pain. He hovered over her, dangerously close and sneered

" Admit it, you never really loved him. You've always loved me and you know it. You may have forgotten your love, but I'll make you remember" he said, crudely forcing his mouth against hers in a hard kiss. She struggled against him, but he forced her hands behind her, gasping

"Can your little Phantom please you like this?"

He kissed her again, taking pleasure from her pathetic protests. He felt the smooth curves of her body pressed against his, bound tight beneath him in her gown and felt the gentle curve of her breasts, her smooth skin.

"Raoul, stop it! Let me go" she cried weakly

He slapped her, panting "You and I both know who you truly love. And I will be your husband someday, no matter what I have to do to you or your precious Angel. I love you and you will not continue ignoring me. You will return my love and if you don't, I'll make sure you won't live to love anyone else again. And this time, I'll be making good on that threat, you understand?"

She nodded, crying

He continued "You know you love me Christine. I don't care what I have to do to drag it out of you, but you will realize your love for me, even if it's not apparent right now."

He slowly began stroking her smooth breasts, taking pleasure as he watched the goose flesh spreading slowly over her skin and watched her struggling pathetically against him. He stroked her hair, gently sliding his fingers through the elaborate bunches and twists, watching the roses and lilies she'd so painstakingly embedded fall worthlessly to the floor. He kissed her again, and she cringed as he forced his vile stench and rough lips upon hers. He suddenly looked around, and with one final kiss, he grabbed her arm roughly turning her around and whispered menacingly in her ear

"You will be mine one day, and you will love me again. If you ever tell anyone of this, that day will come much sooner than you wish, and then your little Angel won't be here to protect you any longer. I'll make sure of that"

"Christine?" asked a voice behind her. She turned to find Erik standing there

She turned around crying again and threw herself in his arms "Oh Erik, thank god it's you! He was just- he was trying to- Raoul- and I-"

She stopped suddenly, remembering Raoul's harsh words to her

"_If you ever tell anyone of this, that day will come much sooner than you wish, and then your little Angel won't be here to protect you any longer. I'll make sure of that"_

She took a deep breath. She couldn't tell Erik. She mustn't tell him or anyone else what had just happened. Raoul had escaped and if she told, he'd kill Erik. He made that quite clear and she'd already seen what he could accomplish.

And that was only when he was locked behind asylum gates.

She sighed as Erik embraced her gently and frantically asked "Christine, what is it? What's wrong? Darling, are you sick? Do you need to leave? Sweetheart, please, tell me what's wrong."

She forced a smile "Oh nothing, Erik, everything is fine. I just tripped over my gown and I fell. I was just a little upset everyone saw how clumsy it was and wanted to hide back here a bit"

He looked at her oddly "You were crying over that?"

She nodded "Yes, I was just...upset"

He nodded slowly, looking at her "Uh-huh. Well darling, hiding is supposed to be my speciality"

She laughed and laughed at that "Oh Erik, that's so funny! Well, actually darling, I was just upset because we hadn't danced yet. I thought you'd forgotten"

He smiled, kissing her gently. She involuntarily flinched, the memory of Raoul forcing his rank lips upon hers still sharp in her mind.

Erik smiled "Christine, I didn't forget! I could never forget about you. That's absurd. I couldn't get away from the press and people to come down here. Mme. Giry was so pleased with her surprise"

She smiled, forcing her voice to be even and calm "I bet she was"

Erik kissed her again and grinned "Well, it looks like the next waltz is beginning. So, Madame, may I have this dance" he asked, bowing

She curtseyed, trying to stop her knees from shaking "I would be delighted"

And so, husband and wife strode out onto the dance floor, whirling gaily about amidst the numerous other lovers floating about in swirling silks and gleaming masks. Beneath her smile and forced laughter, Christine couldn't remember feeling more frightened in her life. Tonight, it seemed, instead of Erik, she may for once have a horrid secret forced to be hidden behind her cheerful mask at this wonderful masquerade.

* * *

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	20. Arguments and Arias

_**Sweet Seduction**_

_Chapter Twenty: Arguments and Arias_

Erik settled comfortably in his armchair in his new study, looking over his music manuscript. Three months had passed since the Opera's re-opening and in that time, Christine had quickly become the celebrity she once was and Erik had also been conducting lately in addition to co-managing the House with Georges. He and Christine's recent increase in salary had allowed them to buy a much larger house and move out of their small, cramped apartment. They now had a beautiful two-story house, only ten minutes away from the Opera Populaire and had a dining room, parlor, and all sorts of luxuries neither of them had ever dreamed of. It was quite an adjustment. And of course, Christine still insisted of being a perfect little homemaker. She cooked and cleaned everything herself, instead of letting Erik hire her a maid or some help, as he really wanted to. He worried about Christine. She had been awfully pale lately, and lost a lot of weight. Come to think of it, she really hadn't been herself since that Masquerade. He wondered what was troubling her.

At that minute, Christine came in Erik's study, balancing a basket of laundry sighing

"Erik?"

He didn't respond, engrossed once again in his manuscript

She sighed again

"Erik?"

He still didn't respond. She grumbled angrily, flinging the laundry basket down and snatching the manuscript right out of his hands

"Christine! What is the matter with you?" he asked in annoyance

She flung the manuscript down on the desk, picking up the laundry basket again

"Erik I've been calling you the past twenty minutes! Haven't you heard?"

"Christine, I was-"

"Don't tell me ' I was only reviewing the manuscript. I'll be there in a moment'" she said in a deep voice

"Erik, I'm sick of this. Which is more important: your manuscript or your own goddamn wife!" she said shrilly

He groaned "Christine, this is nothing to get angry about. I was just busy-"

"Never mind! You're always busy anymore. You never have time for anything, least importantly me or this house."

"Christine, could you please stop it, you're giving me a headache" he moaned, rubbing his throbbing temples lightly

"Oh, I am _so_ sorry monsieur. I shouldn't have dare to speak to you while you were 'busy'.-"

"-Christine I didn't mean it that way! It's just-"

"-Erik, I don't care. When you're not busy, you might care to know that rehearsal for the next opera starts in twenty minutes. I've already had my lunch, but there's some sandwiches and soup on the table in case you're hungry while I'm gone"

"Christine, honey, please"

She stopped and turned around to face him

"Christine, why don't I drive you to the Opera in the carriage? Please? I'll stay for the rehearsal and maybe afterwards we could go shopping downtown or maybe we could go down to the library again?"

"Erik, would you please stop that?"

"Stop what? Trying to be nice to you when you're angry?"

"No! Stop trying to buy your way with everything. If anything is wrong, you just think you can buy your way out of it. Just because we have more money doesn't mean that that is going to solve all of our problems!"

"Christine, what is the problem here? I didn't hear you when you called? I'm sorry. I'll listen next time"

"That's not it"

"Then what is wrong Christine?"

"I just feel like we never actually spend time together any more! You're always so busy with the Operas and your music and everything and I'm always rehearsing and practicing and with all the social obligations, it's like we never spend time together any more"

He sighed and hugged her "Sweetheart, I'm sorry. Would you like me to drive you to rehearsal today?"

She nodded "Yes, thank you for offering." She groaned, rubbing her stomach lightly "I'm sorry Erik, I just don't feel very well today"

"What's wrong? Do we need to go the doctor's instead?"

"No, I'm fine. Just-, it's nothing I'm fine."

"Christine, are you sure? I still think you're working too hard. Why not just take a break from performing, just for a little while? It's too much stress on you-"

"Erik, I'm fine! Would you stop it already?"

"Christine, you and I both know you're working too hard! Why not let me just hire a maid or something? Someone to help you out around here-"

"Erik, I'm perfectly fine! I don't need a maid to help-"

"Christine, look at you! You're pale, you've lost weight, you never get enough sleep, it's too much! You're running yourself ragged!"

"Erik, I told you already, I'm FINE! Now would you please get the carriage already if you're going with me or should I just take a street carriage like I always do?"

"No, I'll get it in a moment. Christine please, would you just tell me what's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong Erik! You just have to create a problem to worry about when there isn't one. I don't understand you!"

"You don't understand me? Christine, what the hell is wrong with you lately? You're moody, you're always snapping at me, you're never happy anymore, you never slow down, one of these days you're going to kill yourself!"

"I'm going to kill myself? What about you? Do you ever go to bed before one in the morning? Do you ever sleep in our bed instead of in your study with your precious work? And would it kill you to eat dinner, even if you are working on something?"

"Christine, I've told you before, I don't like to be interrupted when-"

"'-when you're working on your music' I've heard it a thousand times Erik You know, normal musicians usually don't starve themselves just because they're playing. Can't you just act like everyone else for once Erik? For one damn day?"

"Oh, I am so sorry that I'm not just like everyone else Christine. Unfortunately, I can't be. Have you happened to notice the right side of my face?" he yelled, flinging his mask across the floor to her.

She picked it up angrily and flung it right back at him "Yes, I have noticed. Just because one side of your face looks like a monster doesn't mean you have to act like one too!" she screamed

Too late, she realized what she said and wished she could take the words back. She sighed

"Erik, I'm sorry, it's just-"

"Save it Christine. I don't particularly care to know why you chose to act like a bitch again today" he said, putting the mask smoothly back on his face

She bit her lip. Maybe she deserved that.

"Well, that's great. Rehearsal's in ten minutes, Christine and I have more business to attend to at the Opera. Do you want me to take the carriage with you?" he asked coldly

She stared at him and snapped "No thank you, I'll take another carriage. God knows you couldn't stand to spend time with your wife when you could spend it with your precious music."

She stormed into their bedroom angrily throwing off her work dress. Good lord, it was blazing hot in here and it was only mid-March! Her camisole was sticking to her sweaty back and her petticoats felt almost wet. She angrily tore off everything but a single petticoat and light chemise. It was far too hot in here to wear a dress. She picked out a summer blouse and slipped on a light, shorter yellow skirt. There was no way she was going to force herself into a corset with her stomach aching like this. She tried to pin her hair up but soon became fed-up with the tiny pins in her sweaty fingers. Nothing was going right today!

As soon as she was sure Erik had left, she sat down quietly on the stairwell and suddenly burst into tears. Why were they always fighting so much? Did they really love each other any more? As hard as she tried, she still heard Raoul's voice whispering in her ear _"You never wanted a normal husband? Never wanted someone to take care of you, to love you more than his music?" _She sobbed into her hands, trying to breathe. That memory of Raoul at the Masque still haunted her, and she couldn't share it with anyone. All sorts of doubts and fears had welled up inside her since then. What if Raoul had been right? What if Erik really did love his music more than he loved her?

What if he had never loved her at all?

* * *

"Ladies and gentlemen, please, settle down, settle down!" Erik called over the noise of the performers on stage. They were running a dress rehearsal for their performance of _Le Nozze de Figaro_ _(The Marriage of Figaro) _and everyone was very excited and in high spirits. Everyone, that is except the conductor, whom everyone could tell was extremely angry at something or someone. He just wanted to start rehearsing Act Three, which proved quite impossible since the Prima Donna hadn't' shown up yet. Erik was secretly worried something had happened after his rather abrupt departure, but he was ignoring his worries for now. 

"Well, I suppose since some people cannot be expected to reserve the common courtesy of arriving at engagements on time, we shall have to move on to rehearse the ensemble number in Act Three" Erik snapped loudly. At that moment, Christine came walking out on the stage

"Maestro I apologize for my tardiness, but if you could kindly try not to have a temper tantrum, I believe everyone is ready to begin now." she said coolly. It was obvious by her tear streaked face and red cheeks that she had been crying, and her costume was hastily thrown on over her normal dress, which sagged limply off her body without the internal support of her corset.

Erik turned to the young lad playing Figaro " Gilles, are you ready to begin your scene?"

The young boy blushed beet red "Excuse me, Monsieur Destler, but I believe it's the cue for Christine's aria"

Erik stared at Giles "Are you sure of that?"

The lad gulped "Pretty sure."

Christine rolled her eyes "Maestro, what are you splitting hairs about now? If it's time for Susanna's aria, then why don't we rehearse that? And if it isn't, why don't we rehearse the scene we are supposed to be rehearsing?" she asked evenly

"Well those are rich words coming from the woman who held up our rehearsal in the first place with her tardiness" he snapped

"Then if you are such an excellent musician and businessman, surely you found some ingenious way to proceed that we imbeciles would never be able to think of" she said coldly

Erik inwardly groaned and felt his headache coming back

"You know what? Everyone just take a ten minute break and we'll take it from the beginning of Act Three when we start again. All right?"

Well, that announcement didn't breed any complaints. Everyone scattered among the stage, resting or talking and Erik sank down into an aisle seat, rubbing his head. Jacques came up beside him

"Erik?"

"What?" Erik asked through gritted teeth

"What's wrong today _mon ami_, huh? The opera looks like it's coming along fine. What are you so angry about?"

"The impossible, little- woman I unfortunately happen to be married to!" he exclaimed " How does everyone always know when I'm angry? My temper isn't that bad, is it?"

"No, but you've been screaming at everyone for almost an hour now, plus your mask in on backwards"

Erik instantly felt his mask, realizing Jacques was right and didn't really care. He mumbled

"That woman is just so impossible! Everything I try to do around her is wrong!"

Jacques nodded "Ahh, another fight."

Erik looked up "What do you mean 'another fight'?"

"Well, you guys always seem to be arguing lately. I mean, neither one of you ever seems like you're happy anymore. What's all the fighting about?"

"To tell you the truth, I don't even know. She got mad because I didn't hear her calling my name when I was working on something and then she started screaming things about how I never pay attention to her anymore, all I care about is business, I don't love her anymore, I'm not normal, God, it was awful. She's so moody lately! Nothing you do is right with her!"

"Erik, relax. You guys will make up eventually. Just give Christine some time to calm down and leave her alone a bit and she'll be right as rain"

"That works?"

"Well, it usually works with Meg. Speaking of which, I don't think Christine's only in a bad mood when you're around"

"What are you talking about Jacques?" he asked curiously

"Well, Meg keeps saying that Christine doesn't seem like herself lately. She never really seems happy or nice anymore, it's like she keeps switching from upset to furious. Meg doesn't understand it either . She thinks it may just be women's troubles" he said in a low tone

Erik sighed. He hadn't even considered _that_ possibility.

Backstage, Christine sighed as she tried to eat something. Meg came over to where she was standing

"Christine, what is wrong today? Hmm? You know you can tell me"

Christine sighed, trying not to cry again "Erik and I were fighting again. I don't know what's the matter with me today. The fight was all my fault. Again" she added in a small voice

Meg nodded "What happened?"

"Well, we were shouting some pretty nasty things at each other and he just stormed off to come here. Honestly, I'm starting to think he loves this Opera House more than me. I don't even know why we ever got married"

Meg hugged her gently

"Oh Christine, don't say that. It's just a little spat you two are going through. All couples do. I'm sure you'll both forget about it in time. Just have a little patience"

Christine smiled

"You really think so?"

"I know so. You two will be fine. But remember, he's still not used to being around people so much. He's still adjusting to company after he was the lonely you-know-what for some time now. You'll both be fine once you sort this all out. Just give it a little time"

"Thank you Meg"

"There's no thanks needed Christine" Meg said lightly, patting her back gently "I am your best friend. We are supposed to talk about little personal things like this. And speaking of personal things" Meg said, trailing her finger lightly down Christine's back, and whispered

"What on earth happened to your corset? Why are you not wearing one?"

Christine sighed "Meg, I just could not put it on. My stomach hurt so badly and I was so hot before I came here, if I had to force myself into that thing with all the tugging and lacing, I probably would not have made it"

Meg was slightly surprised at that. Christine had always been the more ladylike of the two of them. She had started wearing a corset years before Meg, even though she hardly needed it. Meg, on the other hand, stubbornly refused to wear one for two years even though she developed so rapidly, _she_ was the one who truly needed a corset. And strangely enough, it had been Christine, not Meg's mother, who had convinced Meg to wear one and laced her up the first time.

Meg said lightly "Christine, are you sure you're feeling all right? Maybe you should go home."

Christine scoffed angrily "Why does everyone think I'm sick today? I am perfectly fine and I do not need a break! I. am. fine!" she exclaimed breathlessly

Meg looked at her "Are you sure about that?"

"Confident" Christine snarled

-------------------------------------------------

Well, the rest of the dress rehearsal was...interesting to put it mildly. By the end of the afternoon, even the lowliest stagehand knew M. and Mme. Destler were fighting. Erik begrudgingly rode Christine home in the carriage and they both spent the ride, their dinner and the remainder of the evening fuming in silence. Erik shut himself in his study the rest of the day composing furiously and Christine sewed luridly on a new sampler, accidentally stabbing herself with the needle three times and eventually gave that up and spent the remainder of the evening reading. Christine and Erik eventually gave up their little distractions and went after some brandy, unfortunately running into each other.

"Madame" Erik said coldly

"Monsieur" Christine replied, glaring at him. She grabbed the bottle first, taking a few unladylike swigs straight from it and shoving it back in the liquor cabinet angrily. Erik watched her storm up the stairs and followed her, parting to his study and taking the brandy bottle with him. Erik slept in his study still fully dressed that night and Christine got ready for bed, both still furious, and wondering how much blood would be shed tomorrow


	21. Let The Opera Begin

_**Sweet Seduction**_

_Chapter Twenty-One: Let The Opera Begin _

Christine sighed as she knotted her apron of her costume for Act Three. The performance suddenly seemed to take forever and she wished it could just end and she could go home. Well, she'd have to get through the opening night party first, which might be a bit difficult. She hadn't been feeling well at all since last night. Of course, she and Erik had made up long since and their silly fight was completley forgotten about now, and everything was as it should be, but she still didn't feel as perfectly fine like she'd told everyone. She hadn't been able to eat anything this morning. Erik knew that it was just nerves and she should at least have some tea, but she couldn't even keep that down. She had gotten dizzy during the day too, but she wanted to perform so badly tonight and if she told Erik she felt ill, she knew he wouldn't let her. So, she kept silent, but now she was regretting that choice. It was now the interval of the program and Christine would have an extra five minutes or so to prepare for the upcoming act during the ballet. She'd need it, since she had been so flustered and nervous all evening. She didn't know what was wrong with her. Her stomach ached wickedly and she had vomited twice already. Although, she had a feeling it was her own guilt making her sick.

She hadn't told anyone about Raoul threatening her at the Masquerade, and she knew she needed to. This was literally making her sick, but every time she thought about telling someone, she almost vomited all over again. Raoul really seemed serious, but how would he know if she told someone? She wanted to tell Meg, but then she thought better of it. Meg wasn't the best for keeping secrets, and even though she had kept Christine's secret about her angel when Christine had told her years ago, Christine knew Meg wouldn't possibly keep something like this a secret. Meg would certainly tell her mother and Jacques and then they could all be in danger if Raoul really tried to harm anyone. Christine knew she should tell Erik, but each time she tried, he either brought something else up or she lost her courage to tell him. Tonight, she just knew she had to confess. Right now. She should not have kept this a secret in the first place. She needed to find Erik and tell him, and fortunately at that moment, she saw him walking down the back hallway towards the men's dressing rooms. She ran after him and called him.

He turned around and smiled, hugging her

"Christine, you certainly are a very gorgeous chambermaid" and kissed her gently "You're doing wonderfully so far"

"Thank you, but Erik, I have to tell you something-"

"Darling, now just make sure you tell me if I'm playing the coda in your aria a little too fast, I'll slow it down. Oh, and if you see Veronique, could you give her a message for me?"

"Well, I suppose, but Erik please-"

"Just remind her about that harmony in her duet with Giles. She seemed a little uncertain yesterday and I'm afraid I was so...distracted, I forgot to mention it to her"

"All right, Erik, I'll tell her, but Erik please, you need to hear this-"

"Christine, I'm sure it can wait. We have plenty of time and I haven't seen you almost all day" he said, trailing a line of soft kisses down her neck. She struggled in his grasp, breaking away from him

"Erik, please, you have to listen to me. There's something you don't know!" she exclaimed

He looked at her worriedly

"All right, Christine, calm down. Here, sit down and you can tell me" he said, pulling up a spare chair next to hers

She sighed, beginning

"Well, Erik, you remember three months ago at the masquerade, when you and Georges were preparing that surprise for Marie?"

"Yes. What about it?" he asked curiously

She sighed "When you were busy putting the finishing touches on that, I was dancing with-"

"Erik!" Georges called out, motioning for him to come over. "We need you in the dressing room" he called

Erik moaned, kissing Christine again

"I'm sorry love. Duty calls"

"Erik, no, I need to tell you this-"

"Darling, calm down, you can finish telling me tonight, O.k.? I'll listen to every word. I promise"

"But Erik-"

"Honey, I have to go. I love you"

She sighed bitterly. Now she'd never get to tell him! He'd be so preoccupied after the party tonight and the opera they'd both be ready to collapse when they got home. Christine felt like she was ready to collapse now. Oh well. The lights began to dim and she knew the ballet was beginning. She had better finish putting her makeup on before it was her cue...

* * *

Erik stood before almost five thousand people in the orchestra pit. The Act Three ballet was finally over and the opera was going to begin again. He turned his music page quickly and nodded to his musicians to begin. As much as Erik loved singing and performing, there was a special feeling of conducting nothing else could compare to. Monsieur Reyer had retired and refused to come back to conduct for the Opera House again. All those years of the Opera Ghost rumors and disasters had worn the poor old man out. Erik felt a twinge of guilt knowing he was the reason Monsieur Reyer retired, but it had all worked out for the best. Erik was the conductor now and nothing on earth made him feel more alive. Actually being responsible for all the music, directing the different tempos and feelings, knowing every cue and line for where the music should begin and end was thrilling. He was actually creating and directing the music. It was almost as fulfilling as composing and he loved the pressure and feeling of being needed. Plus, every performance, every night he was able to look on stage and see his wife, acting and singing to music he was directing and occasionally winking or smiling at him (And he managed to wink back if he was able). 

Sometimes he wished he could be up on stage performing with Christine, but his passion for performing in front of crowds died long ago on the night of Don Juan and he didn't desire to relive that expierence. Well, maybe he would, only if Christine was performing Aminta again...

Speaking of which, the two comical scenes had passed and it was now time for Christine's aria. She revealed her hiding place behind the chair to the audience and stepped forward, ready to begin singing. Erik thought she looked a little pale, but maybe it was just the lighting or her heavy makeup. She waited for her introduction and then bega singing. Erik thought there was no sound more beautiful then that of her angelic voice gliding over the sweet, high notes. It was hard to keep his mind on conducting when his gorgeous angel was before him, singing beautifully. He knew she must be nervous, but she was doing fine. The picture of poise and elegance and-wait, did she just miss the coda? Yes, she did, but she's caught herself up now, nothing to worry about. Erik couldn't help noticing that Christine was starting to sway dangerously. She had completely lost time with the music. In fact, she wasn't even singing any more! Her eyes were closing. Erik motioned the musicians to stop and all Paris looked on as the young singer suddenly fainted, crumpling to the ground and her husband leaped up onto the stage to catch her before she hit the ground.

* * *

Christine felt so horrible, even though she shouldn't. This was her aria! Erik had practiced this with her a thousand times over! Why was she so lost? She couldn't remember what she sang last. She had no idea where she was and suddenly the room was beginning to spin around her. Her head hurt tremendously. The room was spinning faster and faster and suddenly it went dark. She saw a sweeping vision of black rushing up to her and she felt unattached to her body as it crumpled to the floor in a tangled mess of skirts and petticoats, landing in someone else's soft, strong arms.

* * *

Erik almost felt his heart stop. What had happened to Christine? What was wrong? Why had she fainted? He could care less five thousand audience members and most of the Opera's staff were watching and gasping as he cradled his wife gently in his arms. Two of the stagehands hastily drew the curtains as George made a hurried apology and asked if there happened to be any doctors in attendance to please come backstage, then hurried backstage himself with Mme. Giry and Meg on his heels. 

"Christine, please honey, come on, wake up!" Erik said frantically, gently shaking Christine by the shoulders

Georges and Mme. Giry knelt down beside him

"Erik, stop it!" Mme. Giry scolded as he tried to shake Christine harder "You're not going to help her if you shake her head off her shoulders"

"Marie, please" Georges said softly "I believe they're both shaken up enough"

Erik glared at him "Damn it, Georges, this is not the time for bad puns! Is there a doctor here? Oh god, what could be wrong with her? Christine, please,wake up!" he pleaded

"Shh, Erik, try to stay calm. Meg's coming right back with a doctor" Mme. Giry assured him

Erik gently ran his fingers down Christine's cheek. Georges offered him his handkerchief and Erik gently wiped Christine's heavy, white stage makeup off, revealing her own normally rosy cheeks and skin to be nearly as white as the makeup. Her lips were dry and colorless and he tore her wig off, letting her natural brown, velvety curls spill over his arms. His hands gently brushed down her back, where he felt her corset laced tightly beneath the costume. Well, that definitly couldn't be helping anything. He gently propped Christine up and ripped the back of her gown open, holding back her hair as Marie swiftly untied her constrictive corset laces and threw the contraption aside. Erik laid Christine back down in his arms gently.

He felt a small tear rolling down his cheek hidden behind his mask. He was starting to panic. All sorts of medical information and treatments ran frantically through his mind, but he wasn't thinking calmly enough to apply or even remember them. He did remember the last time Christine had fainted on him, after Don Juan, but that was because of all the pressure and danger. She hadn't been sick. God, what if she was dead? What if she was dying right now, in his arms and he was just sitting here like some pathetic imbecile, idly waiting for god-knows-what to happen? He had to do something! He couldn't lose Christine, not after everything they had gone through to be together, everything they had shared together.

By now, a very large crowd had gathered around Erik and Christine, but Erik was oblivious to anyone else but the woman he loved, lying limp in his arms like a rag doll. In one swift motion, he stood up, supporting Christine gently under her head and lower back as he lifted her up in his strong arms, heading quickly towards the hidden tunnel he knew lay backstage. Marie grabbed his arm firmly

"Erik, are you mad?" she hissed "You can't go back there! Not with all these people, they'll see you!"

"Blast it, Marie, do you think I care about what all these other people see? The only thing I care about right now is getting Christine some help, which would be easier if you would let go of my arm" he nearly shouted back

And then, to add yet another shock to the already unbelievable day, Marie slapped Erik, sharp and quick against his unmasked cheek. It stung horridly, but his hands were rather busy at the moment supporting Christine to rub his stinging cheek

"Erik get control of yourself now. You are not helping anything by acting out of panic, you fool! Now, look, here comes the doctor now. Everything will be fine" she whispered

"Maman!" Meg called out breathlessly "I found a doctor!" Meg said, gesturing to the middle aged, plump man in a formal evening suit behind her

The doctor rushed over to Erik, looking at Christine lying weakly in his arms. He shook his head

"Well, monsieur, it was rather foolish to try and move her in her current state, you could have seriously injured her. But what's done is done, and as long as you've gotten her up, is there a room with a bit more privacy? I can examine her thoroughly there"

"Follow me, monsieur" Erik said, forcing himself to ignore the secret tunnel he knew that was to his right, instead taking the public way to the Prima Donna dressing room with Marie following behind him. Georges, Jacques and Meg reluctantly remained behind to keep control of the ever-growing crowd. Erik looked fearfully down at the weak angel lying helplessly in his arms, and he prayed to whatever ruthless gods or spirits that had shown him little mercy in his life to please spare him and his wife some compassion, and please, not to let him be too late.


	22. Angels of Music

_**Sweet Seduction**_

_Chapter Twenty-Two: Angels of Music _

Erik sighed miserably, laying his head in his hands as he sat in a plush couch outside Christine's dressing room. The doctor and Madame Giry had been with Christine in her dressing room for over an hour now, shutting him out here. There wasn't anything he could do to help and he hated this feeling of...well, helplessness! He should be doing something, anything, but not just sitting here! He resisted the urge to let anymore tears fall. He couldn't break down. Not now, not here. But, what if something was happening to Christine? What if she was dying, or already gone? No, that was too horrible to think about.

He was grateful when he felt another body slide onto the couch next to him. He lifted his head to see little Meg Giry, sitting next to him in her fluffy tutu and tights. She sighed, gently patting his back

"Erik, don't worry, everything will be fine. You'll see. We just have to be patient"

He groaned "Meg, what if something happens to her? What if she's dying? What if-"

"What if she's perfectly fine and just fainted because she was excited? Or tired? Hmm? Did you ever think of that?" Meg pointed out

He tried to smile, but it ended up falling into a scowl "I don't know what i would do if she left me. I don't know if I could even keep living if she was gone"

"Erik, please, just try to-"

"Try to what, Meg?" he exploded, standing up "Hmm? Try to sit here while Christine could be dying in there and I'll never get to see her again? Should I still keep being patient?" he fumed "That's it. Enough is enough, damn it! I'm going in there. I don't care what that idiot doctor said!"

Meg stood up suddenly, putting herself against the door and blocking Erik's only way in. He glared at her

"Meg, I swear, if you don't move, I can't be held responsible for what I might do to you"

"I'm not frightened Erik. Go ahead. Do your worst, but you're not going in there." she said, a steely unmoving glare in her eyes even though she was trembling. Bravery wasn't her strong point and Erik knew that. He tried to pick her up out of the way when she kicked him sharply in the shin, making him groan. She led him back over to the couch, settling down

"You know you're getting more and more like your mother every day Meg" he groaned "That's the second time today I've been injured by a Giry" he tried to joke

She smiled weakly "I do apologize, Erik, but you shouldn't have tried to go in there. Besides, the door's locked"

He looked over at her "How would you know that?"

"Who do you think tried to go in there first?" she asked practically

He sighed "I'm sorry, but I just can't bear the thought of losing her."

"Erik, it's okay-"

"Meg, I know you're trying to help, but would you please stop trying to be Miss Empathetic already? You can't possibly understand!" he said

"Can't understand?" she shrieked "Can't understand? Understand what Erik? How much you love her? How much you two care for each other? Don't you think I can see that? I'm her best friend, for goodness' sakes! I've known her ever since we were young. She was the only real friend I've ever had. I can't ever imagine what I would do if she left us." Meg said sadly, sitting back down, the furious glare in her eyes now replaced by tears threating to fall.

Erik awkwardly placed his arm around her shoulders as she cried into her hands. This wasn't helping matters at all.

"We've always been the best of friends, and I know it's not the same as you love her so much, but I love her too, like a sister. We've always been so close and I never imagined how horrible life might be if she wasn't in it" Meg sobbed

Erik patted her gently, wishing she would stop crying already.

"There, there Meg, calm down. I was just getting upset for no reason. Christine will probably be fine"

Meg smiled, wiping her eyes with Erik's handkerchief "I hope you're right. After all, she only fainted. It isn't that horrid."

She looked up at Erik "I never did tell you, but Christine was always the happiest I had ever seen her after she had been to a lesson with her 'angel'. What were you two doing in there?" she asked curiously

"Singing" Erik responded, puzzled

"Just singing? Nothing more?" Meg asked mischievously

He was about to respond when the doors to Christine's dressing rom swung open and the doctor left, followed by Mme. Giry, looking rather somber "Erik, you may come in. Quickly now" she said

Erik was up in a flash, bolting off of the couch to his wife's dressing room, praying the worst hadn't happened.

* * *

Erik entered his wife's room quietly, and for a moment, his worse fears were confirmed. Christine lay in the bed in a spare dressing gown, her eyes closed tight and her face drawn, her curls spread out messily over the pillow. Erik felt his heart turn to ice as he neared the bed, gently stroking Christine's hand. He was too late. 

He sighed "Christine, I love you" he whispered

At that moment, as if he needed any more surprises today, Christine's eyes snapped open and she sat up in bed "Surprise" she exclaimed happily

Erik felt himself laughing cautiously as he threw his arms around his wife "Christine? Oh, thank god!"

She laughed "Erik, I didn't die. I only fainted! Mme. Giry said you looked worse than I did!" she said, giggling

Erik smiled "I thought for a moment you left me"

Christine smiled mischievously "Erik, did you think I was that easy to be rid of? I'm going to be around for a long time"

"I couldn't have it any other way" he responded, hugging her again. He broke apart, looking at her "So, what was wrong? Why did you faint?"

"Well, you see Erik" she began nervously, playing with her hair " Well, we love each other, right?"

"Of course. I could never have loved anyone else in my life as much as you dear"

"Well, Erik you'll have to learn"

He looked at her oddly "What do you mean?"

"Erik, the doctor thoroughly examined me and...well.. oh bother, Erik" she said, gently sliding her hand into his own before exclaiming

"I'm going to have a baby!"

For a precious instant, Erik felt time stop, reverberating with Christine's voice and lost his own voice for a minute. He looked at Christine, clearing his throat

"A baby? We're going to be...parents?" he asked in shock

Christine nodded, tears brimming in her eyes "Yes, that's just what I said Erik. We're going to have our own little angel!"

He was silent for another moment before he started uncontrollably laughing

Christine stared at him "Dear, are you all right?"

He nodded, joyously exclaiming "I'm fine! I'm just so happy! We're going to have a baby! We're going be parents!"

She laughed "I know, darling, I know!'

He laughed again and started to swing Christine around like the night they had become engaged, before he remembered himself. He gasped

"Oh, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have done that. You're in a delicate condition, I shouldn't be rough with you? Do you feel o.k? Do you need anything?" he asked hurriedly

Christine smiled, putting her hand up to silence him "Erik, relax. I am perfectly fine. And you don't have to treat me like a china doll. I can still do all the things I did before, at least up until the eighth or ninth month"

He looked at her "Christine, are you sure you don't want a housemaid? You're with child, you shouldn't be working so hard doing everything. You could hurt yourself _and_ the baby"

She bit her lip "Well, it is beginning to sound tempting, but let's just wait and see, shall we?"

He nodded "All right. I just can't believe it, I mean, getting married was more than I ever dreamed of" he broke off, kissing her gently "but a _child_? We're going to have our own little angel! I mean, I don't know anything about raising children!"

She laughed "Well, Erik, it will be new expierence for both of us. We'll just have to learn as we go along"

He let out a low whistle "I can't believe it, I just can't believe it! A baby! You're going to be a mother! And I'm going to be... good god, I'm going to be a father" he broke off in shock

Christine jumped out of bed, fetching him a nearby chair which he sank into in a daze. She shrugged

"Oh. I just remembered, Mme. Giry told me to make certain you were sitting down before I told you. Oops, I knew I had forgotten something"

He sighed, kissing her hand "That's all right love, it was just a...shock when I finally realized it" he said, running a hand over the outline of his mask out of force of habit. He stopped, frozen with horror

"Christine" he whispered hoarsely

"What?" she asked, getting back into the bed

"Christine, what if our child is born with this?" he whispered

"Born with what?" she asked exasperated

He removed his mask, gersturing to his scarred, mangled flesh

"_This_. What if our perfect little angel is born with a face like mine? What if it inherits my deformity? Oh god, it could be worse than mine was! It's life will be horrible! Oh god, and it's all my fault" he moaned, replacing his mask

Christine sighed "Erik, really,calm down and here, come sit next to me" he did so

"Now Erik, just calm down. Honestly, I hadn't thought of that either, but what does it matter-?"

"What does it matter? Christine, the first ten years of my life were hell on earth! What if our child has the same face? The same fate?"

"Erik, really. Things have changed. Your moth- well, you didn't- I mean-"

"What you mean is my mother was a cold, heartless bitch that sold me to the gypsies and then ran off with her lover. Is that the term you were looking for?"

"Well, Erik, possibly, yes, but things could be different! Who says our child has to have that deformity?"

"You mean he could have another type? Oh god, I hadn't even thought of that"

"No! Erik, I meant there's thousands of different possibilities for how a child could look."

"So you mean, there's a chance it won't have...well, this?" he asked, pointing to his mask again

She grasped his hand in her own kissing it again "First of all, Erik you'll have to stop referring to our baby as 'it'. 'It' is our living, flesh-and-blood baby, and the baby is either a he or a she. Not an 'it'. And secondly, even if our baby does have a similar or the same deformity, things are different now. He or she would have two loving, caring, encouraging parents who will love and nurture him or her, and besides, our baby will have lots of support and acceptance from all our friends. Could you imagine Marie or Meg refusing to hold our baby because of his or her face? Or Georges? Do you think he wouldn't accept that?"

Erik smiled sheepishly "Well no, not when you put it like that. I guess I was just being foolish"

"And besides, could you imagine me _selling_ a baby? A loving, living, wonderful _child? Selling_ it? Are you mad, Erik? I won't let him or her out of my sight for at _least_ the first year!" she shrieked happily.

Erik smiled "I can tell already that you're going to make a wonderful mother"

She kissed him again "And you will be a wonderful father, I know it" She ran his fingers through his hair gently, and he whispered to her"And who knows? The baby will have to have some musical talent! Look at who his or her parents are! Maybe our baby will be a marvelous singer, like you, or maybe they'll take up composing like me! There's hundreds of possibilities! They could be a dancer, or an artist, or maybe they'll like books and literature and learning!" he finished excitedly, unlimited possibilities for the future racing through his mind

She laughed "See? You'll be a great parent. We both will"

He moaned with pleasure at her soft kisses "Mmm, imagine, I'll have two angels in my life now!"

She kissed him again, and they broke apart when Mme. Giry came in after knocking rather loudly. Shelooked at Christine expectantly

"Well my dear, I assume by now you've told him the good news, haven't you?"

Erik nodded "Of course! I...just can't believe it!"

She nodded, sitting down "I know. My dear husband was just the same whenI told him I was expecting Meg"

"Oh!" Christine gasped "We have to tell Meg and everyone else!" she exclaimed, starting to rise outof bed

Mme. Giry and Erik both pushed her back into bed

"Dear, calm down" Mme. Giry said, slightly amused "I doubt Meg's still here anyway"

"But, what about the opera? Oh my, what happened after I fainted?" she asked worriedly

"Let's just say you put a rather early ending to it" Mme. Giry said kindly

Erik laughed"They will be performing it tomorrow night, and anyone that didn't wish to come see the repeat performance was given their money back, but their were only about a handful of those" he said

Christine sighed, leaning back in bed "Good. So, is there another rehearsal tomorrow, or do we just have another performance?"

Erik looked at her "Why would you ask that?"

"Because I have to sing! Remember?"

"Christine, you can't possibly mean you're going to continue performing! Not when you're with child!" Erik exclaimed worriedly

Mme. Giry silenced both their protests with her hand "Honestly, I can't tell which one of you is _acting_ more like a child at the moment. You two just need to calmly work things out-"

"But Marie, Christine can't seriously keep working when she's pregnant! You're just joking, aren't you?" he asked, turning to her

"I most certainly am not!" she exclaimed furiously

"Would either of you two mind listening for a moment?" Mme. Giry broke in "Thank you. Now, Christine isn't due until October, and I don't think she was implying she wants to keep working so long that she has her baby during a performance, do you dear?"

Christine shook her head

"And Erik, you certainlydo not intend for her just to sit home the rest of her life and never sing again, do you?"

He shook his head

"Then you two will just have to arrive at a compromise. There won't be any visible changes in Christine's figure until at least the third or fourth month, so she could still keep continuing to sing if she chooses to do so."

Mme. Giry patted Christine's hand and stood up, calling out as she left

"Whatever you two decide upon my dear. You'll just have to compromise, that's all. And once again, congratulations, I know you two will make fine parents"

As soon as she shut the door and left Christine just smiled wickedly

"You are aware it's going to be a bloody battle between her and Meg for who is going to be the godmother?"

"Oh god, not that already"

"And guess who will be right in the middle of that?"

"I wish you lots of luck my dear" he said fondly

She stared at him "Don't go wishing me luck so soon. I have a feeling Georges and Jacques would both like to be a godfather. And who do you suppose is going to have to choose the godfather and work with both the candidates here for the next _nine months_" she said wickedly

Erik sighed. There was no telling _what_ to expect from his angel next.


	23. I'll Tell All

_**Sweet Seduction**_

_Chapter Twenty-Three: I'll Tell All_

A/N: There's a reference to the stage show POTO in this chap, and a Titanic tagline. See if you can find either of them, or both, and let me know in the reviews!

* * *

Christine sat in the living room reading, but her thoughts constantly kept wandering away from the story. She looked down at the waistline of her skirt for at least the sixth time that morning and gently ran her hand over it. _A baby_ she thought excitedly. She was actually responsible for another human life, growing inside her. She was going to be a mother. There were just no words that could possibly describe the emotions she was feeling. She would have a child, a real living child that she would love with all her heart, regardless of what he or she looked like or what his or her talents were. She couldn't wait to become a mother. Mme. Giry had bee a great help, advising her and answering her questions, almost like Christine's own mother would if she was still among the living. Christine wanted so badly to be the perfect parent and do everything she should, but she didn't know who or what to listen to. She'd received all sorts of advice from lots of people, but sometimes she was very confused. Mme. McGlen, one of the wig makers , had told her to make sure she ate plenty of fish, to help ensure her baby had lots of protein (and Mme. McGlen should know, having birthed three healthy, beautiful children), but Mme Goche, one of the chefs at the Opera House, had told her never to eat any kind of fish or seafood while she was pregnant (and she should know too, being a chef and a mother of two petite rats in the ballet corps). It was all so confusing and Christine didn't know what sort of advice to follow. 

At that moment, the doorbell rang and Christine knew it was Meg. Christine hadn't seen her best friend since last week when she fainted and was dying to share the news with her. Meg and Jacques were basically the only two people who didn't know Christine was expecting yet, and she knew how Meg hated to be the last to know. She also knew Meg would be angry she couldn't spread the latest news, since practically everyone at the Opera and probably the world knew already, this time thanks to Erik (And Erik had apologized to her countless times for that, but honestly, he was going to be a father! He was so proud of her, and he hadn't told all that many people. Well maybe he had, but could you blame him?) But Meg hadn't been here at all this week. Two days after Christine fainted, Meg had reluctantly had to go to England with Jacques and a few other dancers. The opera house had selected Meg to dance the coveted role of the Lilac Fairy in the French ballet _Sleeping Beauty_, and Meg couldn't pass the opportunity up. She had just returned home late last night and she was anxious to see Christine.

Christine opened up the front door and Meg came in, throwing her arms around her best friend

"Oh Christine, I've missed you so!"

"Meg, I'm so glad your home! So, how was it?"

"Well, the English are so strange, but the ballet was just wonderful, Christine, it was perfect. And the traveling was a bit...inconvenient, to say the least, but Her Majesty's Theatre, it's almost grand enough to rival our Opera House! And some of the ballet girls there are just...oh, I've never seen ladies so flexible and tall in my life! It was a wonderful performance"

"I'm glad you had fun"

"That isn't the best news, Christine!"

"Well here, come sit down and tell all"

They moved into the parlor, sitting down on the couch. Christine looked at Meg

"So, what is the good news? Because, Meg, I have to tell you some big news too"

"Well, the touring company asked if Jacques and I would like to remain members of their ballet... Permanently"

Christine looked up suddenly at that. Meg was leaving? For good? And Jacques too?

Meg smiled "But, we turned them down. I just couldn't leave the Opera House like that! It's my home. And all that traveling...ugh, I wouldn't be very fond of that. Neither would Jacques, and he really likes the Opera House. And you'll never guess what-"

"-Well, Meg, I need to tell you something-"

"-It's the most wonderful thing that's ever happened to me!"

"Meg-"

"Christine-"

" Meg, I'm going to have a baby!"

"Jacques and I are engaged!"

Both women finally fell silent, starring at each other before they both started laughing. Christine clapped her hands in delight

"Oh, it's taken you two long enough, that is certain! When did he propose?"

"Before the performance. I knew something was going on when he gave me a new pair of ballet slippers before the performance, and then there was this beautiful ring stuffed down in the toe" Meg said proudly, showing Christine her ring, shimmering brilliantly under the soft parlor lamps

Christine smiled "Meg, that is beautiful. And that was such an...unusual way to propose. But Jacques is so sweet that way. You two were just meant for each other!" she exclaimed

"Yes, enough about that already! You're embarrassing me, Christine! Now, what is this I hear? You're going to have a baby?"

Christine nodded "Yes, I'm expecting! That's the reason I fainted last week at the Opera. I went to the doctor's and it's certain. The baby will probably be born around late November and I'm just so excited!"

"You should be! Oh Christine, that's so wonderful! Oh, why did you let me prattle on about my little engagement when you have such big news? You're going to be a mother." she exclaimed happily

Christine smiled "I know. And, well, I don't wish to complain, but I just don't know whatever to expect next! I mean, the morning sickness, the cramps, late courses, it's just overwhelming and it's all so strange and new to me. Of course, your mother's been so helpful but it just...it isn't the same, you know? It's just like... I don't wish to offend, but I just wish my own mother was here for a moment, just so I could tell her what I' going through, and maybe ask her some things I so want to know about my own birth"

Meg nodded "Of course, Christine, it isn't at all offensive, you goose! You have every right to want to know everyhing you should. Unfortunately, I know even less than you do about it, so I shan't be any help right now, but I'm always here if you need me"

Christine smiled warmly, embracing her best friend "Thank you Meg"

"Any time Christine. We're best friends. Nothing will ever come between us. Not even babies or my new fiance" she said, sighing longingly as they broke apart. She looked over at Christine

"Oh, by the way, how did Erik take the news?"

She laughed "Erik asked more questions than I did, and I suspect he's even more nervous about this baby than I am! It's all so new to both of us, we just want to make sure we're doing everything right-"

At that moment, Mme. Giry came in, with Erik stragglig along inside behind her. She was scolding him about something or other and Erik was making childish faces at her behind her back when she wasn't looking and stopping when she was. Christine forced herself not to laugh, but Meg couldn't help it and laughed out loud. Mme. Giry turned around and caught Erik in the act, tugging his ear. He groaned

"You'll want to know these things one day Erik and then you'll be sorry you didn't listen"

"Trust me Marie, that day won't come for a long time" he said, kissing Christine as she came over. He started to kiss her again when Mme. Giry cleared her throat and he sighed

"I think we're old enough not to need a chaperone, Marie"

"Erik, you will never be old enough not to need a chaperone" she said, kissing Meg's cheek lightly. Erik nodded to Meg "So, how was your trip mademoiselle? Or should I say Madame?"

Her mouth fell open in a wide little O of surprise. Erik laughed

"Your mother already told me about it, dear"

Christine looked at Mme. Giry for a moment. She had more questions, but she could't ask them in mixed company, and Meg was probably sick of hearing about it already. She needed to speak to Mme. Giry alone. Amazingly, Erik got the message. He gestured to Meg

"Come on, Meg, why don't you tell me all about the English ballet, huh? I'd love to hear how their operas are shaping up"

She brightened and immediately began chattering away as Erik escorted her upstairs to his study, rolling his eyes at Christine. She flashed him a grateful smile while Erik fought the urge to cover his ears against Meg's restless chatterings. This would be a long afternoon.

* * *

Mme. Giry sat down on the sofa, patting a place for Christine to sit next to her. She settled down on the couch 

"So, my dear, are you feeling well? Have there been any problems?"

Christine shook her head " Thank goodness, none so far, but I did have a few questions, if you have the time"

"Oh, I'm sure I won't. Meg won't run out of things to inform your husband of about the ballet for at least another hour. He's in for a treat." Christine smiled. Meg could be quite a chatterbox when it came to ballet

"So, Christine, what do you wish to know? Do you need another physician's appointment?"

"No, actually, Mme. Giry, I needed another woman's advice. I have no idea what sort of things I hould be eating, to help the baby! What would you reccomend?"

Mme. Giry laughed, patting Christine's knee " Oh goodness, dear, a few months from now you won't believe you even said that!"

"Why?"

"Well, my dear, it is wonderful you are anticipating such things already, but food doesn't really matter. Just keep eating as you normally would and just make sure you have larger amounts to help nurture the baby's body and yours, and stay away from that devil wine. But dear, once you start having cravings, you won't care what you're eating, as long as you stop the blasted things. You could be gourging on things you despise or trying foods you've never heard of before, at any hour of the day. But that's later on in your pregnancy. The doctors won't tell you about those woman's matters you wish to know, dear, they'll only tell you the bare, basic facts. The things you _really_ need to know, you have to ask another woman" she said

Christine nodded, trying her best to absord every word like a sponge "Okay. Well, thank you so much for that, Mme. Giry."

She was silent for a few moments. Mme. Giry raised her eyebrow

"Surely that's not all you wish to know, is it Christine?"

Christine sighed and gave a small smile "No, not all"

"Well then what are you shying away from? Go right ahead, dear and ask, I've been through this all before"

So Christine launched into her tirade of questions and prepared to dive into the strange and mysterious world of motherhood.

* * *

Erik sat at his desk later that night, looking over some papers. He was relieved when Christine softly knocked at the dor. He was sick of work and just wanted to enjoy spending some time with his wife. He shut the wooden cover to his desk and looked over at her 

"Come in, darling. I'm finished for tonight"

She came in, gently sitting down on his lap. He grinned

"How's work Erik? Everything running fine?"

"Yes, for the most part. Although I honestly have no idea what Georges is expecting me to do with this accounting, but we're getting there. It just may take some time"

"That's good. So, how was the opera today? Did they choose the show to open the Spring season yet?"

"Not yet, I'm afraid, they're still going over some options. But enough about work. I'm sick of work already" he gently kissed her on the lips "So, how was your day? Anything interesting happen?"

"Nothing much. I talked to Mme. Giry a bit and she answered some more questions"

"You must be quitethe curious woman then, for I know Meg talked my ear off for at least an hour and when I finally got her quiet and downstairs, you two were still talking and then Meg started telling me another story and another after that. I'm amazed you women can still sing if you keep constantly wearing your voices out like that"

Too late, Erik realized that sounded a lot like a spiteful insult, and with the extra moodiness Georges had warned him expecting women often went through, Christine would mostly likely be upset. But, to his relief, she brushed it off and smiled

"WellI suppose that's just a special skill women acquire, isn't it love?" She kissed him again and suddenly broke off sighing. She had come in here tonight to tell him and she was going to tell him, blast it, no matter what temptation stood in the way. She'd kept this dangerously secret for far too long.

He looked up at her oddly

"Is everything all right, dear?"

"Yes, it's just..." she broke off sighing again. There was no easy way to do this, but she had to

"Darling, you remember the performance last week? Before I fainted, and I had something to tell you?"

"Yes. What of it?"

"Well, I still need to tell you and it's not easy, but I didn't think I should keep it to myself any longer. I need help."

He looked at her worriedly "What's wrong?"

She sighed and began "Well, three months ago at the Masquerade, before you can down, I had to dance with some other men. Mme. Giry said it was polite and I had to mingle, so I did, and most of them were terribly dull or clumsy and I was bored and still waiting for you to come down and dance with me.

The last man I danced with, though, before you, was different. He was polite and funny and charming and seemed very familiar, but I couldn't place him.

Suddenly, he forced me into the corner, behind the staircase and started singing to me, our old song. I took his mask off, and it was Raoul"

Erik started to stand up, forgetting Christine was sitting on his lap, but she stood up anxiously as he did, wringing her hands

"Raoul! How in the hell- Christine, you're certain it was him?"

She nodded, tears starting to roll down her face "Certain. Erik, I saw his face very clearly. It was him!"

"But he's in an asylum! How could he-"

"-He must have escaped" she said softly

Erik looked at Christine witha fury in his eyes she had never seen before

"What did he say? Did he harm you at all?"

"Well, he twisted my arm a bit, but nothing serious. And he forced a few kisses on me, and took the flowers out of my hair, so that's why I looked such a mess when you found me. I didn't really trip or whatever I gave as an excuse. But, Erik, he threatened me"

"How? What did he say?"

"He just said that I was going to love him one day if he had to force me and I would be his one day and if I ever told anyone about this, he'd kill you" Christine said, sobbing by now

Erik gently hugged her, stroking her hair and she cried uncontrollably into his chest. He just stood there, calmly embracing his wife while she cried out all her fears and worries, until she had calmed down enough to speak again

"Did he say anything else?"

"No. Not anything that bears repeating" Christine said. _Yes, it doesn't bear repeating because you nearly believe it_ she thought suddenly, shocking herself.

_I do not_ she thought forcefully _I know Erik loves me! He loves me! Raoul's insane, that's why he said such horrid things. Erik does love me. He does, doesn't he?_

"Christine, why did you wait so long to tell me this? Did you really believe that fop was going to kill me?"

She nodded "Erik, hes' not as helpless as you think! He could have. Remember that disaster with Joseph Vernon, when Raoul paid him? And what about that accident with the statue that nearly killed Georges? What if Raoul paid someone to do that, or did it himself? What if it was meant for you?" she asked, sobbing again. Erik held her closely, rocking her gently back and forth while she cried. She was making sense. Raoul could have done all those things, but there was no way in hell he was going to threaten his or his wife's life!

He sat Christine down at his desk, kneeling and gentlywiping away the rest of her tears with his hankerchief

"Christine, Raoul can't do anything. You're just worrying for nothing. I'm going to be fine. Do not let anyone threaten you because of me, understand?"

She nodded

He hugged her again "Christine, you're perfectly safe. I would never let anything happen to you, or me, or anyone else we love. I just wish you hadn't kept this to yourself so long, You should have told me that night, darling. I would never had let it happen. Oh, never mind, I was too busy involved in my _business_ affairs to look out for my own wife!" he snapped sarcastically, more angry at himself than anyone else. He sighed, looking into Christine's eyes

" I do promise you this, Christine: I will aways try to keep you safe, I swear it. You don't need to worry anymore. Everything will be fine now"

She nodded. He smiled at her gently

"Why don't we go up to bed now, okay? Here, I'll carry you"

She smiled, laughing with real delighht for the first time in months as he swept her up and carried her to the bedroom. She felt secure and happy in his strong arms, and knew that nothing could ever come between them, and she had no reason for ridiculous worries while he was around.

Or so both of the lovers thought...


	24. Sing, Prima Donna, Once More

_**Sweet Seduction**_

_Chapter Twenty-Four: Sing Prima Donna, Once More _

A/N: Hey everyone! If you didn't get the references from last chap, the POTO stage show reference was "Her Majesty's Theatre" the theatre where POTO was first performed in London, and the Titanic tagline was "Nothing on Earth Could Come Between Them". Also, if you have any baby name or birthdate suggestions, let me know when you **REVIEW!**_

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Erik sat at his managers desk across from Georges anxiously as Georges flipped through his nearly-finished manuscript, scoffing in amazement. Erik looked at him expectantly

"Well? What do you think of it?"

Georges sighed, closing the manuscript

"Erik, I don't know how to answer that"

"Remember now, Georges, I'm asking your opinion as a professional, not as my friend. I want an honest, unbiased opinion of it, like any other composer that handed it to you and asked for your thoughts of it. What would you tell him?"

Georges groaned "The truth?"

"Yes. The honest truth"

He let out a low whistle "Erik, the music is astounding, no question of that. The songs are brilliant and the lead tenor and soprano roles seem beautiful, but some of the dialogue and ideas are a bit...risque to put it mildly. 'Serve the maid? Tangled in the winding sheets?' I mean, Erik, you can't have sexual innuendos that obvious in what you want to call a classical opera. Besides, the music, though it is beautiful, no question of that, it's a bit...unconventional. I'm not sure our company would be able to perform it at the standards you or our patrons and audience are expecting."

"But Georges, I've re-written it three times already. My wife's ready to tear down the damn the study because lately I'm spending more time fiddling with this thing in it than I am with her! I can't take out all of the dialogue. That's the point of it! It's shocking, fresh, unexpected. Don't you think our audiences would enjoy something unexpected occasionally?"

"Erik, I'm being frank with you since that's what you asked. As a friend, I'm telling you it's a splendid accomplishment for any composer, and something to be proud of. As your co-manager and a businessman, I'm telling this Opera couldn't perform it. It's unacceptably risque and indecent for a company of our quality standards to consider! I'm not saying it's horrid, Erik, you needn't misunderstand me. I think it would be...quite a show to experiment with, but we have too much at stake now. After all those business losses, the fire, the re-construction, we're dependant on every cent coming in from our patrons for at least the next three years! And I'm aware you know this all already, that's why I'm reminding you, as a friend! We just couldn't put it on right now, Erik. Our audience is expecting classical, traditional operas they recognize and enjoy. We're not ready for a new era your opera might propose and we can't afford to take a gamble with it right now!"

Erik stood up and groaned in frustration "Georges, would you listen to me for a moment? How do you know this show would fail or ruin our reputation? What if it becomes a success? What if the audience likes it and wants more operas like it?"

Georges began rubbing his temples "Erik, please, don't start going on about this all day! We still have those accounts to finish, that grant to award and the sets from the last production need some touching up, as do those wigs! I gave you my opinion and that's that!"

Erik paced around their large office slowly, rebuttals running through his mind (none suitable enough to use of course).

"And, besides, the name of the play, _Don Juan Triumphant_, it has too much extra baggage attached"

Erik stopped pacing and looked up at him

"What do you mean?"

"Erik, surely you've heard the stories? All those superstitious fools around here say that this was the Phantom's first Opera performed here and it was so shocking and tactless, when the Phantom finally showed himself to all Paris, the chandelier crashed in majesty, wickedness whatever you wish to say about it. The point is, this Opera is almost directly connected to the unfortunate incident when the fire occurred" Georges trailed off, flipping through the manuscript again and Erik realized in a horrible instant he had forgotten to replace his two songs the overture and "Point of No Return" on a new, clean music page. The original pages were still in that draft from so long ago, the night when he had shared his passionate music with Christine and the fire that resulted from his panic. He had gone back later to recover his music pages and now, like an ass, left the almost-burnt, aged sheets of music in the new, re-written ones Georges was now starring intently at.

He hurriedly strode up to Georges desk "You're probably right, Georges, I'm incredibly sorry for that waste of you time. I will just take this piece of rubbish back now, thank you" Erik said, grabbing for his draft when Georges held it out of his reach

"Funny. Some of these pieces look almost ancient compared to the other ones. And, you'll swear I'm mad Erik, but if you hold your book closer to the face, you can almost smell something. Ash-like."

"Oh that? It's not the manuscript, you fool"

"Then what could it be?"

"Well, this is rather humiliating, but," he sighed "Christine gave me this new cologne today and it smells horrid, simply disgusting, but she was begging me to wear it to work, and I couldn't refuse her. I do apologize about that awful smell, I hoped you wouldn't notice. So, about the Gringweld account, we had better start on that, shouldn't we? I can put the manuscript back in my desk for safe-keeping"

"No. But Erik, look at the actual paper the music's on. It's practically ancient, almost like..." Georges trailed off and Erik knew he had made the connection, but he wasted no time swiftly grabbing the manuscript rudely out of Georges' grasp.

Georges looked at him "Erik, was that all your own work?"

Erik turned around, looking at his friend coldly "Georges, I've done many things in my life and I would rather they remain unspoken of, but never accuse me of plagiarizing another man's work or taking credit for something which is not my own. I do have some honor."

Georges face flushed crimson "I know, I never meant to imply you would Erik, but it's awfully... coincidental, don't you think?"

Erik sighed "I suppose you could consider it that way, but every note and word in that manuscript is mine Georges, tactless and risque as they might be. There are many things you really do not know about me, but I'd rather we let those pass, wouldn't you agree?"

Georges nodded in agreement. He could tell Erik was keeping something a secret, behind that mask of his he always wore and some of his peculiar ways, but he wasn't intent on opening up right now and Georges had no intention of pushing him. If Erik started confessing, he would be forced to also and he really didn't feel like revealing all his secrets about his life before the opera, spent with his deceased wife, Annabelle. It would seem a bit awkward and he wasn't ready to tell anyone about his former wife yet. Maybe in time they would both open up.

"Georges" Erik said, ideas flashing through his mind "What if we could perform the Opera?"

"Erik, please don't-"

"Georges, before you say anything, just listen to me. What if this was this autumn's season debut opera? The autumn debuts always bring in tourists and native patrons alike, a crucial mix. Maybe it wouldn't be seen in a negative light like it was last time, performed at that "Phantom's" demand in the middle of the winter season." Erik said

He could see Georges face lighting up "You may have a valid argument there, old boy! Yes, if we could get the timing just right and maybe lower the box seat prices a tad, maybe, just maybe, it could work, but the timing would have to be opportune"

Erik felt himself grinning "It will be, just you wait!"

"And, the company would have to agree to perform it. It's May now, and you want this September first, that should give us enough time for some minor rehearsals and planning"

Erik grinned wickedly "And, by that time, I think I know where we can find the perfect available Aminta..."

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At that moment, Erik's perfect Aminta was sitting in her bedroom reading. Christine was now two months pregnant, almost going to be three, and her form was finally beginning to change, slowly but steady. There were no detectable changes yet in her outward appearance, but Christine could feel her body beginning to adjust to accommodating the new little life growing inside her. She still wore a corset, to preserve her breath support and posture for when she began singing again. She had performed in a few more operas after she discovered she was expecting, but she finally decided to take an early maternity leave of absence, with a little worried persuasion from Erik. All sorts of alternates and aspiring singers were filling in for her roles now, and some frequent opera-goers complained they wanted Mme. Destler (and to some of the older ones, Mlle. Daae) back, and they were assured she would return after her maternity leave. She supposed the complaints could be compliments in disguise.

At that moment, she heard the door shut downstairs and Erik call out "Christine, I'm home"

"I'm upstairs, dear" she called back

She put the book down as soon as she saw Erik come in the room. He kissed her gently on the cheek

"Oh, I'm so glad I'm finally home"

"Rough day?" she asked sympathetically

He groaned "What do you think, dear? Three couples coming in wanting to change their box seats for the upcoming season, then two of them changed their minds and said they preferred their old seats, so Georges and I had to sort all that out! Then there's still all those blasted accounts and to top it all of, that Leroux idiot still keeps coming around the Opera, wanting tours and looks downstairs at the caverns! For god's sake, that blasted journalist is going to be the death of me!"

"Is he still writing that Phantom story?" Christine asked worriedly

"Yes, unfortunately, he's getting a draft ready. That man just gets on my last nerve! And of course Georges is so hospitable to him, since the family used to have some money. So guess which Phantom had to give Monsieur Leroux a tour around the Opera?"

She smiled "What did he say about your mask?"

"Oh, I made up some stupid excuse and told him I lost a bet or something and had to wear it"

Christine twirled her hair nervously "Will his book actually get...you know-"

"My dear, I doubt it will ever be published, it's so muddled up and badly written. He showed me a first chapter of it, all about ballet tarts locking themselves up in a closet with Carlotta! _That_ I wish had really happened" Erik said, chuckling

"Yes, but Erik, if it gets published, what would happen to you? I mean, what if people start believing in it again and all the publicity...it wouldn't be at all fortunate"

Erik kissed her again "Christine, don't worry your pretty little head over my stupid petty complaints. I'm still just a tad worked up"

She smiled, running her hands through his hair. He sighed

"So, what have you been doing all day Christine?"

"Nothing. Some laundry, I finished one book and started this one. I was just so tired this morning-but I'm fine now" she said, cutting him off before he asked if she was all right.

At that moment, her stomach growled. Erik raised his eyebrow

"I'm assuming you're ready to eat dinner?"

She sighed "Erik, what do you say if we go out for dinner tonight?"

"Tonight? Well, Christine, I was hoping we could eat quickly, because, well-"

"Erik, I didn't make any dinner" she confessed "I forgot to go shopping at the market yesterday and I was so tired this morning, I didn't make any and I just forgot about it. Sorry" she said meekly "Are you angry?"

He smiled, kissing her forehead "Of course I'm not angry. It's just dinner, Christine and I believe with everything else you have...occurring right now, it's completely understandable" Erik said, turning beet red.

Christine sighed. Erik got all awkward and uncomfortable speaking about their baby lately. What on earth was he going to do when she actually _had _their child ?

Erik began fiddling with his collar and Christine knew something was up

"Erik, what is wrong now?"

"Well, you know how the Opera's putting on _Hannibal_ tonight?"

"Of course. That was why I wanted to go out to eat. Then we could just eat and go see the show"

"Well, you know who's playing Elissa, don't you?"

"Isabelle, of course. She'll do fine, Erik, stop fretting about it"

"Well, actually she isn't going to. Isabelle's mother stopped by this morning. Isabelle is quite ill with a horrid fever, and she can't sing"

"Well, who's her understudy?"

"That's the problem, dear. Her understudy's already out sick and we were hoping something like this didn't happen"

"So what now?" she asked suspiciously

"Well" he laughed awkwardly "You're going to think this is hilarious. You really will, I promise. M. Gringweld requested you to step in and do the role, and, I know, ironic as it is, I didn't want you pushing yourself before, but Georges boxed me into a corner and I told them you'd sing tonight."

"Erik, I don't think it's hilarious" she said dryly, getting up off the bed and going downstairs. He followed her

"I didn't think you would. But, Christine, please, you know the role. You debuted in it. Just one performance, tonight only, I promise"

"Erik, I only knew the role last time because you worked with me for three months on it! It's been years since I sang that"

"Christine please, the opera needs you. Come on. Just for tonight?"

"Erik, you know I'd love to, but, what if I don't remember anything? What if I make a fool of myself? What if everyone can tell I'm expecting in those slim costumes and it's indecent? What if-"

"What if you do a fantastic job, sing beautifully and look gorgeous?" he asked kissing her hands

She sighed "Erik, please, don't make me do this. I'm not trying to be difficult, really, but I just-"

"Christine, please. For me?" he asked innocently, trailing kisses down her arm

She sighed "I suppose. All right I'll do it"

"Really?"

"I said yes, didn't I?" she asked shrilly

Erik laughed "Darling, calm down. You'll do wonderfully, I just know it. The opera's in four hours, so-"

"I'll go get dressed" she said angrily, cutting him off

Christine didn't know why she was so emotional lately. She was always delighted to sing in these operas. Why was she being so difficult about it?

Well, she knew why. It wasn't the opera that held that memory, it was what happened after the opera, when Raoul came to visit her. Why did she have this awful feeling she'd see him again tonight? She was being ridiculous. He was locked up back in the asylum, the papers said so, weeks ago. She'd be fine. Really. She forced herself to put these silly lingering doubts in the back of her mind, with all those other awful thoughts and doubts she'd think about later.

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Christine breathed a sigh of relief, removing her heavy wig once she reached her dressing room. The performance had gone splendidly, not a single mistake or mishap. Amazingly enough, she had remembered all her lines and solos right on cue, and she had gotten a standing ovation _and_ an encore! Although she still had to suppress shuddering when she had to sing that love song with the pudgy tenor playing Hannibal. He looked so much like Piangi. Speaking of which, she never had heard what happened to him after the night of Don Juan...

She shook her head. Her thoughts kept constantly wandering tonight. Well, at least the show had been a success and everyone was pleased. Hopefully Isabelle would be ready to perform the role she'd worked so hard for tomorrow night. Christine hated the feeling that she had stolen it from that poor girl who had been waiting eagerly for her own debut. Christine unlaced the back of her gown and folded it neatly, placing it in the wardrobe closet in her dressing room. She threw on a sheer robe over her corset and petticoats. She was beginning to feel so tired again.

At that moment, her room went dark and Erik's face was suddenly illuminated in the nearby mirror. She gasped as he sang "Brava, brava, bravissima" He pushed the mirror door aside and stepped through into her dressing room, laughing, relighting the gas lamps he'd magically extinguished. She sank down into a chair, her hand over her heart "You shouldn't have frightened me so"

"Come on, Christine, you loved it when I did that last year"

"Erik, it gets a little old after a time"

He grinned sheepishly "Sorry. I just couldn't resist" He kissed her hand lightly "But, my dear, you were absolutely magnificent tonight! I don't believe you've ever sounded more wonderful."

She smiled weakly " Thank you, but I'm just glad it's over"

He looked at her. She did look awfully pale. Maybe he shouldn't have pushed her so much to perform tonight.

He cleared his throat "Dear, I have some wonderful news"

"Yes?"

"Well, uh-" Erik paused. For some reason, he couldn't bring himself to say it. He was going to tell her that the Opera was going to perform Don Juan for the Autumn's Opera next year, but he couldn't do it. Saying it out loud would somehow strangely finalize it, and he wasn't completely certain something wasn't going to fall through and keep the opera from being performed. But he felt so guilty for spending so much time working on it. Didn't Christine have a right to know what he'd been so busy with lately?

Then again, maybe she wouldn't like to be Aminta after all. After all, all those things had happened that night they last performed Don Juan. Like Georges said, it did have a lot of extra baggage attached to it.

Erik sighed. He couldn't tell her now. But he would. Sometime. Later, maybe

"Dear, what's the news?" Christine asked sleepily

"Uh, we finally decided to give that grant to the ballet corps, so Meg and Mme. Giry can get more of the supplies they need and probably have some money left over" he blurted out hurriedly.

Christine yawned. She was to sleepy to notice his awkward behavior "That's nice"

He stroked her hair "Darling, are you really that tired?"

She nodded and leaned her head back against the chair. Within a few moments, her eyes were shut and she was sound asleep. Erik chuckled, gently lifting her out of the chair and tucking her into the bed in the room. _Just like old times_ he thought nostalgically. It wouldn't hurt to sleep here at the Opera tonight he thought. After all, they had lived here anyway and practically still did. He yawned, sliding into the bed next to Christine, not even bothering to undress and take off his conductor's suit. _Looks like it's been an exhausting day for us both_ he thought dryly

_And tomorrow, I'll definitely tell her about Don Juan._

_Well, maybe later. It took me twenty years to write the thing anyway. What could a few more days hurt?_


	25. A Life Taken

_**Sweet Seduction**_

_Chapter Twenty-Five: A Life Taken_

A/N: Please don't murder the authoress. And keep in mind I said _please._

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Christine was having dreadful nightmares as she slept. She saw Raoul in the cemetery, driving his sword into Erik's flesh, Erik's head rolling limply to the side, gasping for his final breath, his face disappearing behind his mask and her screams of horror. She saw Raoul in the chapel, his hands around her throat, choking her to death and beating her and Erik watching from the rafters. The scenes changed again and she saw Buquet's dead body hanging from the rafters, saw Erik tightening the noose and running off, Raoul carrying her off to the roof and suddenly throwing her off it. She was falling through the darkness, just falling into space as time slowed when suddenly the darkness around her burst into flame. She was engulfed in fire and so hot, so horridly hot as she burned and saw Erik's body beside her, turning to ash. She felt fire running through her, hot and sticky and so painful, flowing from within her and she couldn't stop it. She screamed and screamed and screamed, but no one heard. No one would listen...

"CHRISTINE!" Erik shouted, shaking his wife gently by the shoulders. She gasped and sat up instantly in bed, her head spinning

"Oh Erik, the fire and I was burning and you were ashes and Raoul was beating me and killing you and I couldn't-"

"Christine, darling, calm down. You were just having a nightmare. It's all right now." He said, gently embracing her. She still kept sobbing against him

"It was so horrible. Raoul kept killing you and he threw me in fire and I couldn't find you" she cried

Erik rubbed her arms gently "Christine, shhh, everything is all right. I'm right here. You're perfectly safe"

"But it was so real!"

"I know, honey, I know. It's all right now, you're awake."

She sighed "Oh thank goodness" She moved a bit groaning "Oh, my stomach hurts wickedly"

Erik smiled "Christine, you haven't eaten anything since last night and I believe we slept in."

Christine looked around, her surrounding becoming familiar again. She remembered that they were still in her dressing room. She rubbed her stomach again. "Christine, let me go get us some breakfast. You''ll probably feel better after you've eaten"

"I don't think it's that Erik, it _hurts_"

"Well, why don't we see if you'd like something to eat anyway, all right?"

She nodded.

He smoothed her messy hair down "There's my girl." He got out of bed, heading for the door

She sighed, lifting the covers "I'm so glad that it was only a nightma-"

She stopped in cold horror at the sight before her before she began screaming. Her white robe and petticoats were soaked in blood. Hot, messy, sticky blood was flowing everywhere from her legs and the sheets were crimson and plastered to her bare legs. She kept screaming and put a hand on her petticoat, lifting it to find it covered in a bloody, streaming mess. Erik bolted back over to her, muttering "Oh my god"

She stopped screaming as Erik gently covered her mouth with his hand. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the horrid sight before her. Erik rubbed her shoulder gently and gulped, running out of the room "Love, I think I'll go find a doctor." he called back

She nodded in shock and promptly fainted, sliding into the mess of her own blood.

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Erik sighed, lowering his head into his hands. They were both back at home now. Christine was cleaned up in a crisp navy ensemble and propped up on pillows in the chair across from him, her face still ashen. Neither of them could believe what had happened today. 

After Christine fainted, Erik just blindly bolted out of the room towards the opera house's staff doctor, then remembered he wasn't here today. He ran back over to the ballet corps, quickly found Marie and the words poured out of his mouth in a jumbled, worried rush as she quickly followed him back to Christine's room, crossing herself when she saw what had happened. She sent Meg to fetch a nearby doctor and he came right over, breaking the bad news to Erik out in the hall while Marie helped Christine get cleaned up and changed out of her bloody garments, burning them afterwards. Erik couldn't believe it.

Christine had a miscarriage. According to the doctor, her body wasn't strong enough to support the baby and she was still so young, only eighteen. Her fragile body, she just hadn't developed enough to support their baby. He shook Erik's hand and gave his apologies but Erik hadn't heard a word he said after that. His main concern was Christine and then their lost child. Christine was in shock for a while and couldn't believe what had happened, until finally she broke down and sobbed into Erik's chest while he gently rocked her. He couldn't even think of going to rehearsals or anywhere else Christine wasn't today. They had only come home a few hours ago and neither one of them had moved from the chairs they sank into upon their arrival. The silence, filled with grief was closing in around them and almost deafening. Christine at last broke it with her quiet cries

"How could this happen?" she cried softly

Erik brought his head out of his hands finally "Christine, please, stop crying. It's over now. There's nothing you can do about it. It just happened"

She sighed "I know. I just feel like it's all my fault. I killed our baby"

Erik looked up sharply "Christine, stop saying that! You did no such thing"

"Then why did it have to happen? Hmm, explain that to me since you seem to know everything today! Explain to me why I feel so horrible about this if it wasn't my fault! Explain that to me!"

Erik stood up ready to explode "Christine, you didn't do anything to make it happen! Neither of us did! It's just unfortunate that it happened!"

Christine stood up so fast her head began spinning again, but she forced herself to ignore it "Unfortunate? _Unfortunate! Our _baby dies and all you can say about it is that it's unfortunate! You can't even feel sorry about it? I just don't believe you!" she screamed

"Well, Christine, what would you like me to say? I'm sorry? I'm sorry you woke up a bloody mess this morning? I'm sorry our baby died? I'm sorry I ever got you pregnant in the first place? I'm sorry you _married_ me?"

She was panting furiously by now and suddenly Christine just sank down to the floor, her skirts swirling out around her. Erik ignored his anger and instinctively moved to help her. She shrugged him off

"Erik please, don't" she sobbed, burying her face in her hands

He hugged her again "I am sorry" he whispered

"I feel like I did something. Like maybe our baby would be alive now if it weren't for me. I just feel like a murderer" she cried

Erik dried her eyes gently with his handkerchief "Christine, you didn't do anything. There's nothing you _could_ have done to prevent this. It just happened, even though we both wish it didn't."

She sighed "I know, but I still can't change the way it makes me feel"

He just kept quiet, still hugging her gently and stroking her hair

After a while, they both just got up and quietly got ready for bed, trying to forget everything that had happened that day, even though both knew it was useless to try. You just couldn't forget about a life that ended before it had begun.

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A/N 2: Once again, please don't muder me. 


	26. Wandering Child

_**Sweet Seduction**_

_Chapter Twenty-Six: Wandering Child_

A/N:Thanks to everyone who reviewed. I know many Phans of this story didn't like last chapter, but I put that miscarriage mainly because of Christine's age and health. Many of you were correct. Today, most 18 year olds would be capable of having a healthy pregnancy. But people in the 1800's weren't very big on hygiene and medicine and they didn't know as many sanitary methods and precautions to take as we do now with pregnant women.So, determined from some statistics, the chances of a first-time healthy pregnancy free of any type of miscarriage were pretty slim in those days. Plus, the character of Christine always seems to be very frail and delicate, and looking at how short her life was (by her date of death in the movie) I'm guessing she wasn't all that strong or healthy.

This is mainly just a cute, transitional chap, but I thouhgt you guys might find it amusing. And, on a more positive note, if I get nine more reviews, SS will have 200 reviews! That's a higher number of reviews than for any story I've ever written, so PLEASE review! And, the 200th reviewer gets another special shoutout, so PLEASE review! (Sorry for the long A/N, go ahead and read now)_

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Christine examined the emerald brooch in her hand carefully. It would go well with her dress, but it cost far too much. Erik would kill her if she spent that much on jewelry. Then again, she doubted Erik would really mind anything she did if she was happy again. It had been a month since her spring miscarriage and was now late June. She hadn't left the house for almost a week since she miscarried because she was so upset and she didn't want to hear any pities or consolations from people who didn't really mean them, didn't know how she empty she felt inside. She just stayed in bed, not bothering to freshen up or fix her hair, just reading, reading reading and trying uselessly to stop crying every time she thought about her baby. Eventually, Erik decided enough was enough and made her get dressed and come out with him to rehearsal, desperate for any excuse just to get Christine to leave their room. Outwardly, everything had just gone back to normal after that, but on the inside, Christine was still guilty and depressed. As a result, she really hadn't been very pleasant to be around ever since. Of course, now that she was no longer expecting, she could return to singing as normal and she did so, however bitter and cynical she was about it.

Now, she finally felt herself returning to normal again. Her monthly flowers had come and gone as usual, and she felt perfectly fine again. She hadn't let on how unhappy she still was to anyone, especially not to Erik. So, when he offered to take her out shopping on his day off to get some finery to wear with her new gown to the opera tonight, she had plastered a fake, forced smile on her face and agreed, thanking him lavishly for the little trinkets he got her. Erik had let her browse around by herself, since he'd amazingly gotten the hint she really wanted to be alone and went over to the cobbler's shop across the street to have the sole of his favorite shoes replaced.

Christine looked at the brooch in her hand as it caught the light, thinking bitterly _Would our child have had eyes this gorgeous color, like Erik's, or my brown curls? Would it have been a boy or a girl? Would they have gotten my singing or shyness, or Erik's artistry or temper? Would-_

At that moment, a tugging on her skirt made Christine look down. A little boy with golden hair and big blue eyes with dirty, ragged clothing and his thumb in his mouth was clutching onto Christine's skirt, quietly sniffing. Christine placed the brooch back in the display case and bent down to his eye level.

"_Salut_ little one." she said, forcing herself to smile gently so she wouldn't frighten him "What is the matter?"

He sniffed again "I want my maman!" he cried loudly

Christine looked around. The store was almost empty except for a few gentlemen looking at watches and a dowdy saleslady. There didn't seem to be any mothers looking for their children in here.

She looked at the boy again "Are you lost?"

He nodded "I want my maman!" he screamed loudly, crying again

Christine gently ruffled his hair "I know, little one, it's okay. Where is your maman?"

"Shopping. For chicken" he said, quickly shoving his thumb back into his mouth

Christine nodded "Oh, so she is in a different store, non?"

He nodded

Christine smiled again "What is your name?"

"Luc" he whispered

"How do you do, Luc? My name is Christine." she said cheerfully as he blew his nose loudly into her skirt. She tried again "Luc, what is your last name?"

"St. Jolie"

"Well then, how old are you Luc?"

"Five. How old are you?"

She laughed"My goodness, you certainly are very curious, aren't you? And handsome for one so little"

"Maman says I look like my damn papa, but my sisters said I'm ugly"

"Oh, you have sisters?"

"Uh-huh. Veronique, Annette, and Emilie. But Veronique went away a long time ago 'cause Maman kicked her out 'cause she was in the family way and she got real big"

"That's nice." Christine said awkwardly. _Wonderful_ she thought. She started to stand up when Luc began crying again. She sighed, bending back down "Luc, is your maman on this street? Is she shopping here?"

"I don't know. I saw a big dog and it barked at me and I got scared and ran away from it, and it chased me and when it stopped, Maman wasn't here anymore"

"Oh" Christine said, finally getting the whole story. Luc grasped her legs tightly "I don't like big dogs. But maman said if I was a bad boy today, I was going to get a spanking. I don't like spankings neither"

"I don't like them _either_ Luc" Christine said, trying not to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. She just wished Luc's mother, Erik, _someone_ would come along and help her. Luc kept going

"But I was very quiet and I was a good boy in the bakery, so I gots a lemon drop. Wanna see?" Luc asked, pulling a sticky, lint-covered yellow candy out of his pocket and putting it in Christine's hand. She tried not to groan and forced an admiring smile for Luc "That's wonderful, Luc, but I'm sure you want this candy much more than I, so why don't I put it back in your pocket, all right?"

He nodded and Christine put it back. She started to stand up again when Luc started crying again

"Don't go 'way from me Christine. I like you. You're a nice girl." he pouted.

Christine made herself smile again "Thank you." Fortunately, at that moment, a saleslady walked by and Christine motioned her over. She started to stand up when Luc cried again, so she was forced to gently pick Luc up, to his delight.

"Excuse me, Madame, but does anyone named St. Jolie shop here, or near here?" she asked

The woman sniffed "No, I have never heard anyone called by that name here, madame. Good day"

"Wait, could you-" And before Christine could say anything else, the woman disappeared to the employment only area.

Christine sighed, sitting down in a nearby chair with Luc on her lap. Perfect, just perfect. Alone in a jewelry store with a lost little boy, unhelpful employees and a snot and tear covered skirt. She sighed. The only thing to do now was wait and hope Luc's maman walked by the shop.

Luc snuggled against "What are we doing, Christine?"

She was momentarily stunned by the feel of this little one pressed against her, and it only made her heart ache worse."Well, why don't we wait and see if your maman stops by? Luc, I need you to help me. Just look out the window, and if you see your maman or anyone else you know, can you tell me the minute you see them?"

Luc nodded "Is this a game?"

"Sort of"

"Yay! I like games"

But, after about five minutes when only a few carriages and passerby went by, Luc began whining he was bored and fidgeting. Christine had an idea

"Luc, would you like to hear a story?"

"Yes, please. I like stories."

"Okay, but I'll only tell the story if you promise me something?"

"What's that?"

"We still have to keep playing our old game. You still need to look out the window and tell me if you see your maman, all right?"

"Okay"

And so, Christine told him the story of Little Lottie while they watched. Right when she finished, Erik entered the store, slinking away against the back wall and a shabbily dressed woman with two small girls trailing behind her came in the store. Luc looked up, jumping off Christine's lap

"Maman!" he cried, hugging her leg. Christine breathed a sigh of relief.

Instead of hugging him or exclaiming, the woman bent down and sharply slapped Luc's cheek "You little imbecile boy! I told you to stay put and look what you did! I had to spend the rest of the afternoon looking for you because you couldn't bother to do as you were told! Now your father and sisters can thank you tonight when we all have no supper to eat because the trip to town wasted the day away."

Luc's lower lip trembled a his sisters stayed behind their maman fearfully. Christine stood up "Um, pardon me, Madame St. Jolie, I presume?"

The woman's eyes widened when she saw Christine's expensive clothing

"Yes?"

"Luc found me in the store when he was lost. It's quite all right. He was very frightened and he didn't know where you went, so I let him stay here with me"

"She told me stories, Maman!" Luc burst in and his mother pushed him behind her roughly "You be quiet! You caused me enough trouble already!"

She looked at Christine and grasped her patched clothing in a clumsy curtsey "I am so sorry, Madame. My little fool of a boy cannot do as he is told to do. I am so sorry if he troubled you"

Christine shook her head "Oh no, there wasn't any trouble at all. He was quite amusing" she said, smiling.

The woman opened a threadbare pouch, and her trembling hand pressed three francs into Christine's hand

"I am so sorry for the trouble my boy caused, Madame..."

"Destler. Christine Destler"

The woman's eyes widened even further. Even as poor as she was, she had heard of the famous young opera star. She gave her the francs "I know it isn't much, Madame, but I hope you will accept it with my apology. It is all I have left"

Christine shook her head in shock "Oh no, Madame, I don't want any money. It was no trouble at all, really. Keep this"

The woman didn't need to be told twice, hastily shoving the coins back into her pouch. She nodded "Merci for finding my boy, Madame Destler. Merci"

Christine smiled "You're certainly welcome"

"Thank you again madame. Come on boy" she said, dragging Luc roughly by the ear out of the shop behind his sisters. He waved to Christine behind his mother's back and she smiled, waving back at him

Erik came up behind her, placing his hands over her eyes "Surprise" he whispered

She whirled around "Erik! How long were you in here?"

"Long enough to see that you had...quite the interesting afternoon"

She smiled "You could say that"

Erik looked at her bright, perky brown eyes, alive with happiness and he saw for the first time that she was really smiling. He hadn't seen her look this happy in a long time. He watched her handling that little boy and couldn't help but envy her amazing nurturing qualities. She was so gentle and caring with children, even if they weren't her own, and she always knew to handle different situations that arose with younger children. He, on the other hand, wouldn't have had any idea what to do with a lost, little crying child clinging to him. He knew how much Christine still wanted children, even though the doctor warned them both how dangerous it could be, and suddenly Erik felt horrible. He wanted so badly to give Christine a child again, to see that rosy glow in her cheeks when she was expecting and see her really happy again. He wished he could just give her child after child that they could both love and care for. Erik sighed. That wouldn't be happening anytime recently, but maybe in a few years, when Christine was older and healthier and stronger, they could try again...

He cleared his throat, forcing himself back to the present. "So, did you find a brooch?"

She groaned "Well, you can see how I spent most of the afternoon, but I think I found the perfect one. Come see" She lead him over to the case where she'd placed the brooch. He let out a low whistle "Wow, that's uh...that's quite beautiful"

She sighed "You didn't notice the price tag yet"

He looked and coughed sharply "Well, that looks... fitting for something of that...quality"

She laughed "Erik, it's a piece of jewelry. I can go without it. Come on, let's-"

"Christine, if you want to wear it tonight, then buy it" he blurted out, aware it cost a fortune and strangely, he didn't care. He walked outside the store and waited while Christine found a salesperson and waited to pay. He sighed. He had made up his mind he was definitely telling her about Don Juan today, but now he just wanted to prolong doing it a bit longer. She was so happy already, and hopefully, his news would make her happier.

He hoped.

Christine came out of the store, her curls bouncing as she walked and came up to Erik. He gave an inward groan. Now or never

"Christine, I have some news to tell you"

She remained silent, looking at him

"All those months when I was in my study working and you were angry, I was secretly re-writing Don Juan. I showed it to Georges recently and he finally approved it. The opera's putting on Don Juan for the Autumn season opener, rehearsals start next week and I wanted to know if you'd like to play Aminta"

She gasped "Oh Erik, are you serious?"

He nodded

She threw her arms around his neck, kissing him "Oh, yes, I'd love to! When did Georges approve it?"

"Last month"

She broke away from him, looking at him sharply "Why did you wait until now to tell me?"

"Well, I was afraid something would go wrong and I didn't want to raise your hopes for nothing. But now I can barely wait for it to begin. They're really putting on my opera!"

"That's great Erik" Christine said a bit forcefully, her attention focused on a man walking down the opposite street. He looked exactly like...no, that couldn't be him. He was locked away. It can't be him. Not again. Not Raoul

She forced her attention back to Erik "...and Christine, you'll be fabulous in it, even more beautiful than last time. I never actually told you this before, but I wrote Aminta specifically for your voice."

She smiled "That's rather...flattering, I suppose"

He looked at her odd expression, mildly concerned "Christine, is something wrong?"

She forced her attention back towards Erik, shaking her head " No, nothing at all. What were you saying?"

He looked at her a little strangely and then continued "I was saying that I wrote Aminta specifically for your voice. And, I just know you'll do spectacular in it, darling, but would you like to rehearse a little tomorrow?"

She smiled at him seductively "That depends. Are you going to be my Don Juan?" she asked, running her fingers through his hair

He gave an inward groan. Here came the hard part

"Well, no"

She dropped her hands, looking at him "No! What do you mean, no! You're not going to play Don Juan?"

"No, Christine, I'm not. I'm just conducting, as always"

"But, I thought, you and I were going to... didn't you just...?" she trailed off, confused. He kissed her hand gently before nervously re- buttoning his vest.

"Christine, you're playing Aminta, but not to my Don Juan. I can't perform again. It's too soon, and some people might recognize my voice and then we'd both be in trouble. I'm still not a legally free man if anyone ever finds out who (or what) I used to be"

"But, Erik, how could it be more dangerous than last time? Raoul's not that, there's no stupid plan" _Well, hopefully there won't be_

"I am truly sorry, Christine. I wish I could, but I can't. I just can't sing Don Juan again, but I'll still be conducting and right there with you."

She sighed "I suppose that will be well enough. I just really wish you'd reconsider. It would be the first time your opera would be performed the entire way through, and so much more romantic if you were playing my Don Juan again" she said pouting.

He trailed a line of soft kisses down her neck as he helped her up into the street carriage, whispering in her ear "Well, mon chere, no one said I cannot be your Don Juan _tonight_"

She grinned "Touche, Monsieur Destler"

He chuckled to himself before getting in the carriage.

_Don Juan triumphs once again._


	27. No Good Deed

_**Sweet Seduction**_

_Chapter Twenty-Seven: No Good Deed_

A/N: Hello again! Just wanted to tell you guys that this story is drawing to a close. There will probably be only about five or six more chaps to go and then an epilogue. So, you better make sure you leave a review before you miss your chance (hint-hint)

And, I apologize, I promise I'll reply to all your wonderful reviews this weekend, I just have absolutley no time right now to even breathe, so it's almost a miracle I got to update!

* * *

_No thoughts within her head but thoughts of joy_

_No dreams within her heart but dreams of love!_

Christine sang happily, sinking down onto the stage. Erik nodded, tapping his baton on the conductor stand

"Very good, Christine, but watch your breath support! Now, Alexandre, time for your cue" Erik called out, changing his sheet music. It was two months since rehearsals had began and it was now the last day of August. The performance was tomorrow night, and the company was having one last dress rehearsal. Everyone was excited about the new performance (well some were a bit suspicious, and a little bit fearful, remembering what had happened last time this play was put on) and most were eagerly awaiting the next day, especially Erik and Christine. Erik was finally going to be able to find out what the audience thought of his play, and Christine would get to sing the entire opera. She was still a little disappointed that Erik wasn't going to be playing her Don Juan, though. The company had found an excellent young singer to play Don Juan, even if he wasn't as marvelous as Erik had been (in Christine's opinion). His name was Alexandre Dantes, and he was a young men wanting to make his opera debut. A number of the opera's regular male singers had refused the lead role, not wanting to take any chances. Alexandre had just been hired on as a stage hand before rehearsals started and one day by chance, Georges had overheard him singing and was astounded. He then had Alexandre sing for Erik, Christine and Mme. Giry and all (well, in Christine's case, grudgingly) had agreed, and Alexandre was cast as Don Juan. He was a little nervous about making his debut, though, as he'd confided to Christine in private.

Alexandre appeared on stage, singing his opening lines. Everything was fine, until he got to the chorus. Erik cut off the music, starting to become frustrated. He walked up on stage

"Alexandre, don't be afraid to approach her! This is the entire point of the song. You've set up a grand trap to capture this peasant girl and she's finally in your reach! You have to act as though you want to charm her, even seduce her, and you won't be able to convey that to the audience if there's twenty feet of space between you two!" he exclaimed

Alexandre nodded, quickly moving closer towards Christine. He began singing again _a capella_, a bit more spirited and loudly than last time. Erik nodded approvingly

"Good, good, but one last thing: Alexandre, you have to touch her. Take her hand, hug her, _something!"_

The young boy noticeably reddened and Georges and Jacques, who were watching, quickly turned their chuckles into coughs when Mme. Giry glared at them.

Erik literally pulled Alexandre over to Christine as he protested "Well, of course Monsieur Destler, I mean, you're the composer, but I- Well, I just don't- It's a little uncomfortable, I mean-"

Christine put her hand over his mouth, immediately silencing the young boy "Alexandre, my husband is not going to mind if you touch me or hug me or whatever you wish. That's part of the song. We understand that."

Alexandre grinned as Erik tried not to laugh. He motioned him over and Alexandre awkwardly slid his hands around Christine's waist. Erik sighed.

"No, boy, like this. Here, let me show you" Alexandre moved out of the way and Erik skillfully wrapped his arms around Christine's body, his right arm nestled snugly under the curve of her breasts and his face ensnared in her mounds of curls. Alexandre stared and Christine rolled her eyes

"No, Alexandre, you don't have to get quite this...intimate. My husband's abusing his power again"

"I'm abusing no such thing Madame, I'm just demonstrating so the boy gets the picture"

"And that's all you're doing"

"Well, that's all I'll do right now" he growled in her ear. She laughed. Erik cleared his throat and began singing the chorus

_Past the point of no return -  
no backward glances:  
our games of make believe  
are at an end _

He ran his fingers slowly through her messy mounds of curls, and resumed singing  
_Past all thought of "if" or "when" -  
no use resisting:  
abandon thought,  
and let the dream descend _

He quickly whirled her around and grasped her closer than before, his arms resuming the familiar feeling, one around her waist pressing her firmly against him and the other gently grasping her throat.  
_What raging fire shall flood the soul?  
What rich desire unlocks its door?  
What sweet seduction lies before us?  
Past the point of no return,  
the final threshold, what warm,  
unspoken secrets will we learn?  
Beyond the point  
of no return _

Alexandre and about thirty staff members began applauding. Now it was Erik who noticeably reddened in the face. Christine grinned wickedly, cocking her head

"All right, you made your demonstration. Now let go of me and let Alexandre practice" _Unless you're going to be singing tomorrow night._ She let that go unsaid, but Erik understood her meaning perfectly well. He quickly bowed and got back down into the orchestra pit, where he resumed conducting and leading the company through practice for the rest of the afternoon.

* * *

"Christine! Christine, wait a moment" Meg called, running up to her best friend as Christine locked the door to her dressing room. 

"Meg? Whatever is the matter?" she asked worriedly

"Look what I found in the socialite column in the paper"

"Meg, you didn't! Please tell me you did not talk to another reporter" she groaned

Meg looked at her, stunned "Christine, that was over a year ago! Do you have to remind me of that every chance you get, for goodness sake? And even if I did, do you think _I'd_ be the one to show it to you or your husband?"

"Show me what?" Erik asked, coming up to the girls. He slung his leather satchel of music papers over his shoulder. Meg held out the column for them to see

"Look, right here, page four"

Christine and Erik both skimmed over the paper.

_A Noble Engagement_

_Phillipe de Changy, (formerly the Viscount de Changy since the recent ailing health of his brother, and now Earl de Changy), has formally announced his engagement to Duchess Victoria le Chanter of the Marseilles de Chanters. The announcement was made yesterday evening at the state dinner and ball, held at the de Changy estate. A suitable year engagement is planned for the delightful Earl, and Duchess. As nobility custom dictates, upon the union of the two, Phillipe de Changy's class standing will thereupon be changed from Earl to Duke, as expected_

"So, what is all the fuss about?" Erik asked "Raoul's brother is getting married."

"Oh, that is sweet. Even if it _is_ Raoul's brother, he shouldn't be miserable just because Raoul's unstable right now" Christine said lightly

"No, keep reading!" Meg exclaimed, pointing further down the column. Erik sighed and began reading aloud over Meg's shoulder

_The soon to be Duchess de Changy has taken quite an... opinionated stand for a woman of her class, particularly against her finance's rather drastic decision to institutionalize his brother, the former Viscount, Raoul de Changy due to severe mental illness. Due to the recent death of the Earl de Changy, Phillipe and Raoul's father-_

"Wait a minute!" Erik exclaimed, snatching the paper out of Meg's hands "Their father is dead?"

"Yes, but that's not-"

"The worst of it" Erik finished for her. He could already tell what the rest of the article was going to inform them of, but he kept reading aloud nonetheless

_Phillipe de Changy has now inherited the title of Earl de Changy, and his brother Raoul de Changy has now been reinstated to the title of Viscount de Changy, which he was stripped of upon his arrival at the Asylum de Loons. Alas, this is only one of the changes made in the de Changy family since the arrival of the beautifully dazzling Duchess. The Duchess has persuaded her finance to release his brother Raoul from care of the asylum-_

"Oh no" Christine gasped. Erik continued

_-and once again into the care of his former estate. The Duchess believes her finance was under enormous amounts of pressure at the time he was forced to make the hasty decision to institutionalize his own brother. The Earl Phillipe de Changy claims that he believed it was the best course of action for his brother's failing mental health at the time, but now, with guidance from his ever-loving finance, he has officially signed the Vicomte to be released from the asylum permanently and granted a full pardon for whatever inappropriate deeds he may have committed in his brief term of mental imbalances._

_This new announcement has set all of Paris a twitter with curiosities. Days before the Vicomte Raoul de Changy's arrival at the asylum, he was a rather generous patron to our own dear Opera Popluaire and engaged to the promising young opera star Christine Daae. Since this time has passed, Mlle. Daae abruptly ended their engagement, jilting the Vicomte for still unknown reasons (frightened of his failing mental health perhaps?) and is now married to conductor of the Opera Popluaire and co-manager, Erik Destler. Mlle. Daae has once again returned to singing, and will be performing in the controversial new opera Don Juan Triumphant, written by her own husband to boot, in one week's time_

"Oh no. Oh no NO!" Christine screamed, her legs giving out beneath her. Erik dropped the paper and rushed to catch her, gently lowering her to the floor. Christine barely noticed, trembling violently and hugging herself

"No, this can't be true. Tell me it isn't true!" she screamed

Erik hugged her

"Christine, darling, everything is going to be fine"

"Fine! Erik, nothing is fine right now! Raoul's not in the asylum anymore. He's out for good now and I know he's going to come find me again. Erik, this time he really will kill you! Oh my god, oh my god!" she screamed, nearly hysterical

Meg bent down, taking her best friend's hand

"Yes, but Christine, the paper said Raoul's fine now, see? Maybe he has made a recovery and he is not insane anymore."

"Oh bullshit Meg!" Christine screamed, picking up on her husband's colorful language. Meg stared at her in shock

"Christine, vile words do not pass through a lady's lips" she recited

"Meg, do you really believe I care what passes through my lips anymore? Raoul's released now! I know he's going to come after me again, I just know it. He really will kill Erik this time and he'll take me and force himself on me and make me-"

"Christine!" Erik yelled, lightly slapping her. She screamed louder and collapsed against him, frantically breathing. Erik stroked her hair

"Christine, calm down. Nothing is going to happen to you. I'm right here, I would never let anything happen to you, I swear. You know I'd do anything to keep you safe-"

"-and Raoul knows that too, and he swore he'd kill you if I ever told you what happened at the Masque and I did!" she sobbed

Erik sighed "Christine, why don't you just forget about this ridiculous story, all right? It could just be gossip for all we know"

Meg spoke up

" Oh no Erik, this newspaper would never print anything that isn't-"

"It's just gossip. _Isn't it Meg?_" he said, glaring daggers at the ballerina

Meg nodded "Oh, of course. Like I was saying, this newspaper never prints anything but rubbish. Absolute rubbish"

"You see Christine? It will all be fine. Perfectly fine"

He stopped when he noticed Christine wasn't even awake. She was so upset she had fainted again. Erik sighed, grabbing the newspaper and looking at Meg

"Meg, when did you get this?"

"This morning, but it was out three days ago. Jacques got an extra copy the news cart this morning for half-price, because he wanted to show me another story, and I found this instead"

"Well, is it true?"

"I believe so. This newspaper is usually very reliable, and I imagine many of them will run this same story. Raoul must be out of the asylum by this time, and I though you and Christine should know."

"Well, Meg, your intentions were good, but I'm afraid your timing is horrid. Couldn't you have shown me first, or waited a bit?"

"I suppose, but I wanted you both to know"

"Well, you can see how well Christine handled the good news" he said sarcastically, scooping his wife up delicately into his arms and standing up, walking towards the exit. Meg grabbed his satchel, slinging it over her small shoulder and hurried after him, fumbling with her hair ribbon

"But, Erik, aren't you the least bit concerned what Raoul will do? He sounds dangerous"

"Meg, I probably should be, but I'm not. I would never let anyone harm Christine, especially that fop. And I can't see what sort of advantage he could have over me to harm her, besides fear."

"But, he isn't thinking properly. What if he does do something drastic to her?"

"Well, god forbid it, I would never allow that to happen, but if by any ridiculous reason he even goes near her, I will not hesitate to be rid of him once and for all"

"You mean, _kill him_?" Meg whispered fearfully

Erik nodded "There seem to be more and more reasons to every day. No one is harming Christine and getting away with it, especially without a fight from me first."

"Erik, you can't really mean to murder him!"

"Yes, I can! That devil's been terrorizing Christine for almost two years-"

"-so you just propose to killing him in cold blood?" Meg shrieked "Do you know what would happen if my mother could hear you right now? Or Georges"

"No, and Meg, do not tell anyone I ever spoke of this to you, especially not Christine"

Meg nodded "You have my word"

Erik wondered mentally how much that was worth

* * *

Christine sat at the chair to her vanity, slowly brushing her hair and trying to calm herself. She didn't really remember much after this afternoon. Everything had been such a blur. She remembered having dinner with Erik and briefly rehearsing, and Erik even tucked her in and said he'd be up in a while, but Christine couldn't sleep. She couldn't get Raoul off of her mind. She knew, no matter how much Erik and Meg reassured her, that Raoul was still insane. She knew he was going to come after her and it was only a matter of time. She didn't feel safe anymore, and she hated herself for thinking and worrying over such things in her own home. 

Fortunately, a knock at the bedchamber distracted her from her worried thoughts. Erik called softly "Christine?"

She stood up, opening the door, to find Erik still in his suit, holding two glasses. She sighed

"Erik, what is it?"

"Christine, it's midnight. Would you please try to get some sleep?"

" I did try. I couldn't"

He sighed, handing her a glass "Would some tea help?"

"Erik, nothing is going to help right now! I-"

"Christine, please, just drink it. For me?"

She sighed, drinking the entire glass in a hurried gulp and handed the glass back to him. It tasted more bitter than usual, but right now she was too upset to care. Erik looked at his innocent, lovely wife, pacing around the room franctically like a mad woman, rubbing her aching head and muttering

"Erik, nothing is going to help. Did you see the date on that newspaper article? It was three days ago. Raoul's been out of the asylum three days-"

"-and have you seen him anywhere?" Erik asked pointedly

She sighed "Well, no, but I know he'll find me. He always manages to find me no matter what and make my life a living hell again. Those other incidents were mere trinkets compare to what he'll do in person"

Erik groaned, sitting down on the bed and patting a spot next to him "Christine, please, sleep? I don't want you nodding off in the middle of tomorrow's opera now"

"Oh, I completely forgot about that!" she exclaimed, sliding into bed. Erik kissed her gently

"Dear, you needn't worry. Raoul cannot-"

"Erik, you don't know what he's capable of!"

"Christine, the last time I saw the boy, the only thing he seemed capable of was arranging the mop he calls his hair"

"And I suppose you have forgotten about that sword fight? He would have killed you!"

Erik inhaled sharply. She just _had_ to throw that in his face tonight, didn't she?

He sighed "Christine, here, just lie back and try to sleep. You can fret about all this if you still feel the need to tomorrow."

She grumbled under her breath, obediently sliding under the covers. Erik tucked her in again, softly singing:

_Night-time sharpens,  
heightens each sensation  
Darkness stirs and  
wakes imagination  
Silently the senses  
abandon their defences_

She closed her eyes, listening to the comforting sound of his familiar deep voice.  
_Slowly, gently  
night unfurls its splendour . . .  
Grasp it, sense it -  
tremulous and tender . . .  
Turn your face away  
from the garish light of day,  
turn your thoughts away  
from cold, unfeeling light -  
and listen to  
the music of the night _

She turned over towards him, still listening. Erik continued  
_Close your eyes  
and surrender to your  
darkest dreams!  
Purge your thoughts  
of the life  
you knew before!  
Close your eyes,  
let your spirit  
start to soar!  
And you'll live  
as you've never  
lived before_

Christine still tried to listen, but she felt herself drifting away from the sound of his voice. She couldn't remember what she was worried about or what was wrong. She just seemed to be slowly floating into darkness as Erik's voice got softer and softer and finally closed out all together.

Erik breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn't proud of it, but that sleeping drought he'd slipped in Christine's tea seemed to have finally taken effect. At least Christine would finally get some well deserved rest. It really would be a big day tomorrow and he didn't want her to be tired or feeling sickly, or still worrying about that fop. He knew Christine must have had some horrible experiences with Raoul, and he tried to put himself in her position, but he was convinced now she was being paranoid. She knew Erik would never let anything happen to her. Well, at least not willingly.

Little did Erik know that even a disaster beyond even his worst imagination would soon occur...


	28. Let My Opera Begin

_**Sweet Seduction**_

_Chapter Twenty-Eight: Let My Opera Begin_

A/N: Please leave a review! And BTW (so sorry, totally fogot this last chap) Here is the special shoutout I promised:

Congratulations to **Marieena** who was the **_TWO HUNDRETH REVIEWER!!_** Congrats Marieena!

_

* * *

_

Erik sighed, arranging his sheets of music in order. The performance began in ten minutes and already the opera house was filled with audience members. Some people had come only to see if the rumored Phantom would attend, and some only came because the opera's conductor had re-written this "Phantom's" opera. And nearly all in attendance had noticed that the conductor wore a white half-mask strikingly similar to that of the Phantom's, so the curiosity was already aroused in most before the scandalous opera even began!

Erik, of course, had arrived hours ago to set up and Christine had already changed and warmed up her voice. All of the dancers, orchestra and chorus members had arrived and were warming up. In fact, the only person Erik hadn't seen yet was Alexandre. He figured the lad was just nervous and trying to pull himself together before the opera began, but now he figured he had better go se what was taking him so long. He left the orchestra pit, forcing himself to take the main route backstage and ignoring the secret tunnel he knew lay to the right that led either backstage or to his lair. He still remembered where every tunnel in this building he knew of went, even if he didn't use them so often. _Old habits die hard_ he thought, trying to amuse himself. He went to Alexandre's dressing room and knocked, calling Alexandre's name. He received no response. Erik knocked again, and finally opened the door with his key to find Alexandre vomiting into a wash basin and Jacques struggling to hold him up under the armpits so he wouldn't fall into his own waste. Erik rushed in, grabbing Alexandre's other arm and forcing him to remain up right until he finished. Jacques fetched a chair and he and Erik both helped Alexandre into it

"Boy, what's wrong?" Erik asked, pulling his handkerchief out

Jacques shook his head

"Erik, he can't speak"

Erik looked up at Jacques "What?"

Jacques nodded " I came in ten minutes ago to talk a bit, calm us both down, you know? When I came in, he was clutching his throat for dear life and we found out he couldn't speak. He must have caught laryngitis, and suddenly he just began throwing up! I don't know if it's nerves or sickness or what else!"

Alexandre motioned for the writing pad and pen on his dressing table, and Erik fetched it, handing it to him. Alexandre scribbled something down and handed the note to Erik, which read

_Jacques is correct, monsieur. I came in a half-hour ago and I was a very nervous. Then I found the bottle you must have left for me on my table, and I used it and suddenly my voice just gave out, and I became so upset I vomited!_

"Bottle? I didn't leave you anything Alexandre. What bottle do you mean?" Erik asked, handing the note to Jacques. Alexandre pointed to the bottle of silver colored liquid on his chair and Erik walked over, examining it and soon felt his stomach drop. He hadn't seen this bottle in years. The last time it had been in his hands was years past, on the night of _Il Muto_ when he switched Carlotta's voice spray with his own revolting concoction which made the vocal cords almost instantaneously coated with one's own mucus and phlegm, proving impossible to sing for at least twenty-four hours. It did belong to Erik, true, but the disturbing fact was this was locked away safely in his lair. No one could have gotten to it!

Suddenly Georges, Meg and Christine all came in. Christine came up to Erik

"Dear, what's the delay? The opera's ready to begin"

"No it isn't. We have no Don Juan!"

"What are you talking about?"

He showed the bottle to Christine and after a moment, she realized what it was "Oh no. That's not what Carlotta-"

"Yes, it is, dear. I had it safely locked away in my place where no one could have gotten to it. Someone left it on Alexandre's table and he used it" Erik whispered sharply

Georges came up to him "Erik, what is wrong!"

"Alexandre can't sing"

Georges turned to the young boy "Now, lad, I know it is your debut, but you can't-"

"No, Georges, he can't sing, he can't speak!" Erik exclaimed. Jacques nodded

"It's true Monsieur Beaumont, someone left a spra-"

"I'm sure it's just a passing sickness, or laryngitis maybe" Erik interrupted, cutting Jacques off.

Georges coughed "Well, what are we going to do? Alexandre, you're certain you can't sing boy?"

He nodded miserably in response. Georges sighed "Oh this is wonderful. A full house and we have no one to sing the main part!"

"His understudy?" Meg offered

Jacques shook his head "No dear, the understudy's out of town. His mother became ill suddenly and he left yesterday"

"Well this is perfect. Just peachy!" Georges exclaimed

Christine smiled slyly, glancing at Erik "I know someone who could sing Monsieur"

"Christine, don't" Erik hissed

"Who? Christine, who are you talking about?" Georges asked

"Erik" she said simply

Georges looked up "That's brilliant! Christine, you're absolutely right! Erik, man, you can sing tonight"

"No, I couldn't" Erik protested

Meg came over "And why not? We all know you have the voice for it"

Georges nodded "Mlle. Giry does have a point. You've got to sing tonight!"

"Georges, I conduct. I don't perform. I haven't sang publicly in years" he protested

"You had no problem singing yesterday at rehearsal. Remember that?" Christine asked

"Exactly! Erik, you wrote the opera for heaven's sakes. You certainly have the voice and you know every word and note in it. If you don't perform your opera's all going to be canceled!" Georges exclaimed

"Oh, very tempting point, but I'm sorry. I just can't do it" Erik exclaimed, starting to leave. Christine jumped in front of him, blocking his path and gently kissed him

"Erik, we both know you can do it."

"Yes, but Christine, I've already told you why not. It's still too dangerous, and after all the publicity-"

"Erik, there's no danger, no plan, there's no grand trap to capture you this time. It's simply an opera. Wouldn't you like to sing your opera again? And finish it this time? Really, Erik, how many times in life do you receive a second chance like this?"

He considered that "Well..."

Christine batted her eyelashes and smiled flirtatiously "And just look who's going to be your Aminta." She kissed him suddenly, the taste of her small lips sweet, sharp and warm on his own. She broke off

"Erik, please sing tonight. For me?"

He sighed, giving in "I can't fight you all, especially not you. All right. I'll sing."

* * *

Christine smiled backstage, listening to Erik singing. It was unfortunate, what had happened to Alexandre, but everything happened for a reason, and though she knew she shouldn't be, she was glad that this had happened. She could tell by her husband's voice he was already having a ball tonight and they weren't even twenty minutes into the first act! She fluffed out her hair a bit, making sure her rose was secure in her tangled curls. Her cue was coming up, right after the next line. She hummed quietly to herself, getting ready. It was time. 

Suddenly, before Christine could even tell what happened, her arms were being jerked behind her forcefully and a foul-smelling hand covered her mouth before she could scream. Her body was pressed securely against a strong torso and she fought to jerk out of the stranger's grasp when a sharp, sudden pain shot up her arm. She felt a rope being tied securely around her wrists, knotting them together behind her and she was being dragged away from the stage against her will, a black cloth tied tightly between her teeth so she couldn't scream.. She struggled against her attacker to no avail. Whoever it was dragged her with him, eventually flipping her over his shoulder. Christine saw something cream colored drift gently to the floor behind them and she continued kicking and struggling until the stranger rapped her sharply on the head, hard and then all she saw was blackness.

When she finally awoke, she felt her body being thrown onto something black, long and shaking. Her kidnapper jumped in with her, shaking the ground she was lying on even more than before, and she saw a wave of some sort, alerting her she must be on a lake of some kind. The last sight she saw before her world went dark again was enough to make her scream, shrill and piercing even through her gag.

It was Raoul.

* * *

Erik sighed, adjusting his mask backstage. Why had he gotten himself into this? True, it was a second chance, and he did love performing the daring masked seducer role he had written years ago, and Christine _was_ his Aminta after all. But he just had an annoying feeling that wouldn't leave. An instinct, almost, that something was wrong. But he couldn't imagine what. Georges had gladly taken over conducting for this one night and this time there was no grand scheme that fop had set up to capture him. He could just enjoy singing like he always wanted to. Besides, it was time to begin his romantic duet with Christine. He waited as Passarino finished his lines and then waited for the beautiful sound of Christine's singing. 

But it never came. Christine missed her cue. Erik felt his heart beating faster, automatically assuming the worst. Maybe she had fallen, or hurt herself. Maybe she was ill, or maybe preoccupied. Erik shook his head as if trying to throw the horrid thoughts from his mind. Christine's part was over now and it was his cue. He threw aside the velvet curtains and stepped out onto the stage, his worst fears recognized. Christine was no where in sight. She was supposed to be sitting on the far right of the stage, playing with her rose or basket until he entered. He took a deep breath and sang

_Passarino_

_Go away for the trap is set _

_and waits for its prey..._

Christine still didn't enter. She was nowhere in sight and he could see the stagehands in the wings out of the corner of his eye, just as baffled as he was. Georges looked at him strangely, and Erik stalled a bit, singing his cue again. After what seemed like an eternity had passed, Erik paced around the stage, struggling to keep in character and not to do something stupid out of anxiety, but his fears got the better of him. Forgetting about the performance or anything else, he quickly exited stage right. He bounded backstage, calling out worriedly "Christine! Christine, where are you?"

Meg and Mme. Giry came running up

"Erik!" Mme. Giry scolded "What on earth are you doing? Have you gone mad?"

"Marie, I can't find Christine. She missed her cue and she's nowhere to be found"

"Maybe it's simply nerves" Mme. Giry suggested

Erik glared at her "Marie, this is some stunt one of your petite rats would pull. Not the Prima Donna of the Opera House"

Meg nodded "He's right mother. Christine would never do something like this. There must be something terribly wrong"

Marie nodded "Well then, we had best look for her then. Perhaps she got trapped somewhere or she's injured"

Erik gulped, trying fervently not to assume the worst. Mme. Giry and Meg took off down the passage towards Christine's dressing room, motioning for him to follow. He was about to take off after them when his sharp hearing detected a sudden crinkling noise under his shoe. He moved his foot and looked down. It was a stiff, cream calling card of some sort, folded in half and it was labeled _O.G._ Erik's senses on edge, he bent down, unfolding the note, which read

_Phantom,_

_My trap was set, and it caught its prey._

_If you wish Christine to live, you'd best stay away._

_She is mine, no use in struggling to fight_

_It's over now, your music of the night_

Erik was sharply rearing back in time to that night years ago when his same opera was going on, broken by the panic and confusion. So this was how it was all going to end tonight. That blasted Vicomte must have taken his wife somewhere by force and there was only one place Erik knew they both could be.

At that moment, Georges came running up to Erik, red faced and panting for breath

"Erik, for God's sake man, what is the matter?"

And only to add to the confusion and disorder of that night, Erik left Georges standing there speechless as he took off in a dead sprint down the hall towards the hidden passageway he knew Raoul had used, praying he would get there in time.


	29. Beyond the Point of No Return

_**Sweet Seduction**_

_Chapter Twenty-Nine: Beyond The Point of No Return

* * *

_

Erik ran through the corridors, his heart pounding madly in his chest until he finally reached the passageway he was looking for, only to realized that damned Vicomte had jammed the lever that opened the hidden doorway shut. He fought with it for a few minutes, twisting the lever every way he could and hitting and pounding against the door with all his might but it was no use. The door was sealed shut. Erik didn't have much time and there was no telling what Raoul could have done to Christine by now.

Just as he was about to take off to Christine's dressing room, Georges came running up slowly, blocking Erik's way out

"Erik, it's starting to turn into chaos out there! What the hell is wrong?"

"Georges, I don't have time to explain right now, I-"

"Erik, I demand an explanation for this! What is going on?"

"Georges, I apologize"

"For what?" Georges asked

"This" Erik replied as he roughly knocked Georges out of his way and continued sprinting towards Christine's dressing room. Just as Erik was about to unlock her door, Georges came up, staying Erik's hand

"Erik, that really was uncalled for!"

"Georges, I swear, if you don't-"

"Erik, what is wrong? Just tell me. What are you looking for that's so important!" Georges exclaimed

Erik sighed. There was no way out of this and time was running short. Erik realized there was no other way.

He sighed "Georges, I haven't been completely honest with you about many things"

"Such as..?"

"My past, for one. There's a reason sometimes you can't explain some things I do or say or seem to possess"

Erik paused

"Georges, I was the Phantom of the Opera"

Whatever response Erik had expected, it certainly wasn't this. Georges burst out laughing.

"Erik, my god, I thought you were serious there! Now, really, what-"

"Georges, I don't have time for this right now, damn it!"

"Erik, you can't really mean-"

Erik looked around to make sure they were alone and removed his mask. Georges fell silent, staring

"I don't believe this" he muttered

Erik nodded "Believe it. Do you remember all those rumors and stories we laughed at? They were true. I was sold when I was younger and then I lived in the basement here for about twenty years, ever since I was ten years old. Marie saved me"

"Marie? Marie Giry, the-"

"Yes, the same person you happen to be smitten with Georges. She saved me from hell when I was younger and she never lets me forget it. Afterwards, I came here since most people can't stand the sight of this" he said, gesturing to his face "and would rather leave me alone. So, I made myself a home and learned all about music and operas and discovered I possessed some talent. I started training Christine to sing a few years back and fell in love with her, and after some complications we finally got married. I know just about every secret tunnel and corridor in this place since I spent so much time in them, and right now that Vicomte is holding my wife in one of them" he finished

Georges nodded trying to absorb everything and staring in shock at Erik

"So, you mean- that was you all those- when the" he blabbered

Erik cut him off

"I know, it's confusing and I'll gladly explain later. But right now I could use your help"

Georges nodded "Of course, Erik, anything."

"Go get the police, authorities, someone else and come back down here." Erik opened Christine's dressing room, swiftly sliding open the secret mirror-door to yet another tunnel. Georges stared in awe

"Whomever you bring with you, make sure you lead them through here" Erik said

"Well, Erik, I won't be able to find- I mean-"

"Georges, trust me, you'll know which way to come when you return. But you must go, quickly"

Georges nodded, running off. Erik laid his mask down on a nearby table and set off, running through the passageways to find Christine in time

* * *

Christine opened her eyes slowly, adjusting to the dim light. Everything was still hazy, but she felt the familiar thin fabric of her costume peasant skirt underneath her hands. She was sitting down on something black and rather uncomfortable. She blinked and her heart began racing with panic for a minute when she had no idea where she was, but she calmed down when her eyes roamed over the familiar sights; mist swirling over a small lake, a black wrought-iron gate, molded stone walls, burning candles and music papers strewn everywhere. She was back in Erik's lair. 

Erik. "Erik" she called weakly. Where was he? What was she doing down here? "Erik" she called again. She noticed a movement behind her. _It must be him_ she thought. Just then one of her curls fell, sweeping down over her face. She moved to brush it away, only to discover she couldn't. She couldn't move her arms. Looking down she discovered that her arms were bound tightly, with a gnarled rope stretched painfully over her full chest, binding her to the back of the chair. Someone had tied her up when everything had gone dark. But who would do this? Why was she here? She couldn't remember anything and the loose curl strewn over her face was beginning to annoy her since she was powerless to move it. She tried jerking her head to move her hair around.

Suddenly, there was a movement behind her and her curl was brushed back just as Raoul de Changy bent down to her eye level

"Surprise" he whispered menacingly.

She gasped as it all came back to her; the performance tonight, awaiting her cue when her world went dark as someone dragged her away. Raoul must have kidnapped and brought her down to...her husband's lair. But why?

"Raoul? What are you doing? Why?" she exclaimed, struggling against the ropes binding her to the chair.

He stroked her messy curls for a moment, slowly running his dirty hands down her face

"Because you're mine" he said simply

Christine continued struggling "Raoul, I am not yours! I don't love you. I-"

Raoul held his hand over her mouth "Shh, we'll have none of that now. Christine, you belong to me. We both know you still love me."

She glared at him and he laughed wickedly

"And I'm pleased to see that Phantom idiot of yours hasn't broken your spirit yet. All the more pleasure for me" He finally removed his hand from her mouth, running it down her bare arm. He looked up and she took the opportunity to spit in his face. He cursed in disgust, standing up and Christine grinned. The sight of him wiping saliva from his face made her a little braver

"You don't own me, Raoul, and you never will. You never did own me because I never loved you. How could anyone love a monster like _you_?" she screamed

He was silent for a moment, which only made the sound of his hand colliding with her cheek louder in the silent lair. He slapped Christine in the face a second time, much harder than before. She gasped from the pain.

He bent down, glaring at her "Now you know what it feels like every day I couldn't have you. Now you know how it feels to be denied the one thing you desire, like a slap in the face. Do as I say and that won't happen again"

She fought to keep the tears brimming in her eyes from falling

"Never" she whispered

He chuckled "Of course, I'm sure your little Don Juan will come sweeping down here any minute to save you" he said sarcasticically

Christine gasped when the realization hit her "_You_ left that spray bottle in Alexandre's room, didn't you? So then you _knew_ Erik would sing to save the show and you planned all of this?" she shrieked

He grinned cruelly "My, I see you've grown a bit wiser since we met last. I suppose that bastard ghost has made a woman out of you"

"How dare you speak of him like that!"

"I'll speak of him anyway I wish to. but you know my dear" he said, running his hands down her body slowly "you're still nothing but a girl under his care. Give yourself to me and I could make you a woman"

She felt her face growing hot fury and humiliation and sharply kicked Raoul in a tender spot. He doubled over for a minute and she laughed at the sight of him almost on the ground. He stood back up and sharply slapped her and then shrugged

"Have it your way then. But I know you're still frightened of me. How could such a weak little thing as you are not be?" he said rasing his hand and she involuntarily flinched

"I'm not frightened of you" she lied, even though her trembling voice gave her away

Raoul scoffed "Of course you aren't"

She stared at him before he bent down again, roughly kissing her. She tried to turn her head aside, but he forced his hand firmly behind her soft mounds of curls, preventing her from turning away. He forced her against him, pressing his rank lips onto hers and he began ripping open her peasant blouse, exposing parts of her corset. He paused kissing her for a moment and she gasped for breath

"Raoul, please stop" she begged, starting to cry.

He wiped the tears from her face "Christine, dear, there's no need for that. I'll take care of you now. No one will ever hurt you again"

"Raoul you're the one who's hurting me" she cried, struggling against the bonds holding her to the chair. Raoul ignored her, lifting up her skirt a bit and running his hands all over her shapely legs.

"Raoul, stop it. Stop this at once!" she screamed. Raoul pulled her skirt back down looking at her

"Christine, there's nothing to fight against. You belong to me. I simply can't live without you and there is nothing you can do about that"

"You can't own me like some piece of property Raoul" she sobbed "Can't you see that I don't love you?"

He nodded "Yes, but don't fret dear, that love will return. Even if I have to make it" he growled

"Raoul, you can't force someone to love you! No matter how much money or power you may have, you can't make me love you when I didn't love you to begin with."

"You will" he said simply, as if finishing the matter. He began kissing her again, forcing his hands into the ample bosom in her gown. She struggled against her bonds once more, finally realizing it was hopeless. She was tied to tightly to even think of escaping and if she even tried to, there was no telling what horrid things Raoul would do to her. She leaned back dejectedly against the chair.

Raoul grinned, pausing for a moment "You see? When you stop your pathetic little struggling, everything becomes easier for both of us"

She sighed, trying again

"Raoul, please, just listen to me for a moment. After all those horrid things you've done with that Joseph man, the broken statue, that awful display at the Masquerade, and you still couldn't make me love you, what makes you think you can force me to love you now? You're planning on just keeping me tied up as some prisoner until I change my mind? That is never going to happen Raoul" she whispered

Raoul chuckled, standing up again "You always were a stubborn little thing weren't you?" He walked over to one of the burning candles, lifted it from the candlestick and held a piece of sheet music over the flame, watching as it curled and turned to a crisp black mess of ash, throwing the smoldering fire at Christine's feet, inches from her long skirts. She flinched. He did the same thing again four, five times until Christine had a mess of burnt, blackened papers at her feet, gagging from the smell of smoke.

"Raoul" she coughed "What on earth are-" she gasped for breath through the stench "-you doing?"

"You'll see in good time Christine. You'll see"

He burnt yet another paper and came over to Christine, holding the blazing candle mere inches under her face, the flame wavering dangerously close to her body when she wasn't exhaling. They both stared at the flame

"Christine, you now have a choice. And I suggest you choose wisely. Either tell me you love me and you'll marry me, and I'll let you go. Deny me again, and we both go up in smoke"

"What? Raoul, that doesn't make any sense. Why would you-"

"Christine, I am not about to loose you to some Phantom again. If I can't have you, no other man can and this time, I'll make sure of that"

Christine smiled, looking around Raoul to see yet another trapdoor opening and her husband's dark form stalking up right behind Raoul, motioning for Christine to be silent

"Oh really?" she asked coyly

"Yes, now make your choice." he growled

"I don't think so"

"Christine, there is no other alternative!" he yelled

She leaned closer towards Raoul and the flame "I wouldn't bet on it" she whispered

At that moment, the flame on the candle blew out mysteriously from behind. Raoul turned just in time to see Erik, who immediately punched Raoul right in the face, knocking him into the moat. Christine laughed and Erik immediately strode over to his wife, struggling to untie the tight the ropes the bound her to the chair. She sighed in relief

"Oh thank goodness you came" she sobbed quietly into his ear

"Christine, you insult me. I couldn't let you two have all the fun" he said sarcastically. He stroked her hair for a moment before trying to pull apart the ropes "But I'm so glad you're all right" he whispered

She smiled, looking at him "Where's your mask?" she asked, slightly amused

"I had more important things to worry about" he chuckled

At that moment, Raoul stood up suddenly and pulled Erik roughly away from Christine, throwing him into the moat. Raoul forced Christine up roughly, breaking the thin ropes and pinning her arms back against his body. Erik glared daggers at Raoul

"Vicomte, this has gone on for long enough. Let her go" he growled

"Make me, _Phantom_"

" Your fight isn't with her any longer. It's with me. She's not the one you want, so let her go"

Raoul smirked and threw Christine roughly to the floor. She involuntarily whimpered as she felt the throbbing pain in her hip as it collided with the cold ground and a stabbing pain shot up through her arm.

Erik forced himself to ignore the instinct to go help Christine, focusing on the task at hand. He glared at Raoul

"We have unfinished business with each other Vicomte. And it needs to end. _Now_" Erik growled. Raoul grinned wickedly, and suddenly charged up to Erik, punching him in the stomach. Erik doubled over in pain for a moment, looking for something, anything to use as a weapon. He grabbed a long candlestick, swinging it with all his might at the Vicomte's legs, nearly knocking him down but not quite. Raoul threw another punch near Erik's head but Erik ducked just in time, whirling around and punching Raoul in the back of the head. Raoul groaned, turning around to glare at Erik before punching him right in the jaw. By now, both men's noses were bleeding, Raoul was beginning to form a visible black eye and was also soaking wet. Christine begged for them to stop, but they both ignored her as they continued maliciously fighting. Raoul kicked Erik directly in the stomach and Christine desperately called for them to stop, even weakly trying to wedge herself between in an attempt to get them to stop. Raoul grabbed Christine's arm and threw her suddenly to the ground, hard. Raoul grabbed Christine wrist and tightly tied it back to a wrung on the chair, keeping her out of the way. Erik whirled around and swung his candlestick weapon at Raoul's knees, forcing the Vicomte to loose his balance and fall right on his back. Erik knelt over him, whipping a Punjab lasso out of his trousers' pocket as Raoul weakly struggled and quickly had it tightened around Raoul's neck, poised and ready to strike the final blow when Christine screamed

"Erik, no!"

Both men stared at the woman they both loved on her knees, her wrist fastened to a chair and begging her husband to spare the man they both loathed.

"Erik, please, don't kill him" she begged again

He looked at her, keeping the lasso tight around Raoul's neck "Christine, don't interfere" he barked

"Don't kill him Erik, please. I know he's been horrid and wicked to us both, but he doesn't deserve to die. Please" she whispered

"Christine, this is the only way. Why shouldn't I, after all he's done to us both? He deserves it" Erik muttered

"Erik, please, anything but this. Just don't kill him. I don't want any blood shed on my account, or yours. Please Erik, just think about. Spare him."

"Why on earth should I spare him, after all the trouble and heartache he's caused us?" Erik asked, his hand hovering over the knot of the lasso

"Because he spared you" she said simply

Erik was immediately jolted back to the last time he and the fop had fought like this, on a snowy winter morning years ago in the cemetery. But it was the other way around. Raoul had spared _his_ life then, but only because Christine begged him to, as she was begging Erik to now. He had to decide. Was it worth letting him go because Christine begged him to, when this was the man who terrorized her in the first place?

Unfortunately, Erik took a moment too long to decide and even with Christine's warning cry, he was too late. Raoul literally hit Erik below the belt, causing him to loosen his grip on the lasso and allowing Raoul to rip the rope from his neck. Erik doubled over from the unbearable pain in his privates as Raoul stood up quickly and shoved Christine back to the ground among the burnt papers again. Before she or Erik realized what had happened, Raoul swiftly grabbed a burning candle and threw it on the burnt papers, literally making a ring of fire around Christine. She screamed and desperately tried to back away, but the fire instantaneously spread to her long skirts and she screamed in panic as Raoul laughed wickedly.

"No!" Erik shouted. He felt time freeze for an instant and knew that he couldn't lose Christine, not after everything they had been through together. She was everything to him and he loved her more than life itself. Every second seemed to slowly drift away while flames quickly spread over Christine's thin skirt to her legs and she screamed, paralyzed with fear. Erik couldn't let this happen. His angel was not going to die here before him. He was frozen for a moment with dread and shock. Christine was the only reason he had to even live, to keep trudging through every miserable day. The love he held for her was a thousand times stonger than his loathing and vengence for Raoul at this moment or his lifelong passion for music. She had changed his entire existence for good and gave brought light and happiness to his dark world. He couldn't lose her.

Suddenly, the solution was almost so ridiculous it was simple. He had done it once before after all, when Christine fainted after the last Don Juan. Christine kept screaming and shaking her skirts with her free hand, trying to swipe at the flames almost as if she could brush them away. Erik flung his jacket off, threw if in the moat and grabbed it a moment later when it was completely soaked, throwing it onto Christine's skirts along with handfuls of water. The fire was instantly extinguished. Christine gasped and as her racing heart finally slowed. Erik rushed over, making sure the fire was completely out and Christine wasn't injured before he embraced her, hugging her tighter than he ever had before.

"Oh my god, Christine, I was afraid I lost you for a minute" he sighed

She tried to smile "Erik, really, you insult me. I'm not that easy to get rid of." she said in a trembling voice. He held her tightly while she finished sobbing, her small body trembling limply in his strong arms and ran his fingers through her messy curls. He quickly ripped off the rope on her wrist and pulled her skirt up, looking for any injuries on her legs. Miraculously, there were none except for a some minor burns on her ankles, lower legs and a few bruises. She was all right, thank god he thought to himself. Christine sighed. She was finally safe, at long last. Everything would be all right now that her Angel was here she thought. Raoul stood to the side, watching the entire disgusting display of affection with undisguised loathing.

Christine sobbed into Erik's chest "I was so frightened Erik"

"I know, Christine, I know. It looked horrible, but it's really not that bad. You'll be fine, I promise"

"No, not the fire. I was afraid I was never going to see you again" she sobbed

Erik tilted her head up, looking into her gentle, tear filled eyes.

"Really?"

"Of course. I love you more than anything, Erik."

"I love you too"

"Oh, I hate to interrupt the little love story here, but I believe you have something that belongs to me Phantom" Raoul said, yanking Christine up suddenly and holding her against him.

Erik stood up, ready to beat the man to death, his eyes blazing with fury "Vicomte for the last damn time, if you don't let her go, I swear to God I'll-"

"Vicomte de Changy!" a loud voice yelled. Suddenly, a crowd of large, burly policemen came running in the trapdoor and immediately grabbed Raoul, freeing Christine from his grasp. Erik, acting strictly out of the anger and rush of the moment, threw a hard punch at Raoul, knocking him to the ground. Christine whimpered and Erik quickly lead her out of the way, holding her gently while trying to hide his unmasked face. Behind the crowd of policemen was Georges, with Mme. Giry and Meg behind him. Meg ran up to Christine hugging her and exclaiming and Georges came over, handing Erik his mask wordlessly and Erik accepted it, nodding thankfully to Georges. The policemen forced Raoul up off the ground and the sergent continued

"Vicomte, you are to be taken back into custody-"

"I'm not going back to that hole you call an asylum again!" Raoul broke in "You can't force me! I 'm a free man now"

"Not any longer. You're going to Château d'If Prison monsieur. Anyone that has the intelligence to plot kidnappings, attempted and acted murders, physical and mental harassment and bribing the French mental state health employees is clearly not insane, just a criminal. Take him away" the policemen declared. The police began dragging Raoul away when Christine looked at Erik for a moment and he nodded at her. She ran up to Raoul

"Please messieurs, wait a moment. I would just like to say goodbye" she said softly

The policemen nodded, releasing their hold on Raoul for a moment. Christine looked at him

"Raoul, I'm sorry"

"For what?" he asked bitterly

"For...well, everything. I'm sorry for leading you on like such, even if it was so long ago, and I'm so sorry it has to end like this" she said

"Why?" he asked, his voice breaking

"Because... you just weren't the sweet, gentle man I used to know anymore. You...changed Raoul, like we all do, but, it wasn't for the better"

"Christine, couldn't you just...?" he trailed off

She shook her head "I'm sorry Raoul I truly am, but I lost my faith in you a long time ago."

"When?"

" When you told me my angel wasn't real, and I couldn't love him" she said, glancing behind at Erik.

"Raoul, maybe we used to love each other, but you must admit, there's nothing left between us. You know you don't love me, and you haven't for a long, long time, and I'm sorry you led yourself to this, but it has to be. I'm sorry"

He nodded "I'm sorry too. I suppose this is goodbye, Christine. Just promise me something, could you?"

"What?"

"Think of me once in a while" he said, grinning half-heartedly. She smiled weakly

"I'll try. Farewell Raoul"

He nodded at her, and as the policemen dragged him away to his fate, the Vicomte turned once more to steal a final glance of the woman he lost his heart and sanity to.

Christine came back over, hugging Erik again. He smiled

"That was very kind Christine"

She sighed, not bothering to respond. Erik understood.

Christine looked up at all the people surrounding her that loved her and cared for her, grinned sheepishly and said

"Erik, I believe we still have an Opera to finish"

He chuckled "Will you still sing, Angel?"

She smiled "It would be my pleasure _Phantom_"


	30. Sweet Seduction

_**Sweet Seduction**_

_Chapter Thirty: Sweet Seduction_

_Thanks for all of your great reviews! FYI,I had some time last weekend, so I went back and edited lots of errors and inconsistencies in some previous chaps, like the Eros/Ares sculpture thing and many other grammer/punctuation issues. Anyways, I hope you'll enjoy this chapter, I felt very sentimental while writing it, so expect fluff!

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Christine sat down on the floor of the stage, spreading her thin, yellow chiffon skirt over her bare legs, nearly exhausted. After all that had happened the previous evening with Raoul down in Erik's lair, the performance had been canceled and rescheduled for tonight. Christine was very pleased at that, for she would hate to see Erik's opera cancelled again. But, Alexandre's voice had returned and Erik waned the boy to sing the part again. Christine sighed. She supposed it was al for the best and Erik just didn't want to perform, so she'd have to accept that, as disappointing as it was. She fiddled with the prop roses in her basket, waiting for Don Juan to appear.

Oh, this costume was so uncomfortable, especially the uniquely designed corset, fitted to nearly strangle her and pinch every time she moved, and she soon grew tired of pulling up her shoulder straps that continually fell whenever she moved her arms. Though it was beautiful, it certainly wasn't very comfortable or practical, and the skirt was so ridiculously sheer and flimsy, it threatened to rip every time she walked. Fortunately, the interval in the program was only a few scenes away and then she could collapse for a brief moment in her dressing room.

At last, Don Juan finally came onto the stage. She could see a faint black outline as she glanced behind her, and knew Alexandre would be approaching her in a moment, to begin their duet.

But, as her Don Juan drew closer, she immediately knew that this was not Alexandre.

It was Erik. She was certain of it. She glanced over in disbelief to stage right, where Meg and Jacques were watching. In front of them was Alexandre, in his normal clothes and no mask, beaming when he saw Christine's face. She mouthed "Thank you" and he nodded.

Erik began singing, and Christine felt time slowly rolling backwards to that night years ago when her Don Juan had seduced her like this for the first time, when she had realized in a sharp instant that it was her future husband singing to her. How many times had that voice sang to her in her dressing room during their lessons? Behind the mirror? At the cemetery? It was definitely Erik. She gave in to temptation, looking behind her quickly as her angel, in Don Juan's black costume and domino mask, almost whispering low, mysterious notes in his deep voice. She smiled uncontrollably when he looked at her, bringing his finger to his lips when he sang _silence_ and winking at her. This was too perfect to believe. She wanted to turn around and look again, but she chided herself mentally

_NO! Stay in character. You're Aminta, the beautiful Spanish gypsy, being seducing by a mysterious masked man (who technically _is_ your husband, but still) you shouldn't be glancing around the stage and at him! Well, all right, just focus on him. Only on him._

Christine concentrated on him, only on him. His hair looked even darker than usual under the spotlights, almost gleaming, and she had only seen him wearing the smooth black mask on his face once before. She let her eyes stray downward towards his costume. His body looked very rugged and handsome in Don Juan's costume. It fit him extremely well, outlining his muscular arms and firm legs, the low shirt underneath his tight jacket revealing a glimpse of his smooth chest. He looked extremely handsome. Standing up, she closed her eyes, waiting for him to begin singing the chorus.

_Past the point of no return  
No backward glances  
Our games of make-believe are at an end_

Oh, his voice was so different than the familiar soft voice of her Angel. His voice was loud and powerful, the thrill of performing giving his voice a new-found strength she had heard only once before. He pronounced the words with a low, seductive undertone, practically making him and his voice irresistible. There was an adrenaline she knew from experience could only come from performing urging his voice on now, the passion and fervor rushing out of his throat, giving a new depth to his perfect low voice. Just like last time

_Past all thought of **"if" **or** "when"  
**No use resisting  
Abandon thought and let the dream descend _

He came towards her, silently, swiftly, drawing closer and closer. She still couldn't believe he was performing tonight, but he was. He was beginning to send delightful shivers up her spine. Erik drew closer and closer to her. He felt the swell in the music coming, and he couldn't control himself any longer. He had finally conquered his fear and anxiety of being captured or noticed by the police and here he was, seducing his wife in character and in truth on the stage.

Erik couldn't believe all that had happened to them both since the last time he had sung these familiar notes to her. After everything they had been through and experienced, their love for each other was still as passionate and pure as the first time they sang this song together, and Erik intended to show that.

He raced over to Christine, grabbing her neck with one hand and wrapping the other around her waist from behind exactly as he had done in the rehearsals and so long ago. Swept up in a comforting sort of nostalgia, Christine groaned softly. Her eyes shut and her arms almost instinctively wrapped themselves around his, feeling his warm, firm body as Erik sang:

_What raging** fire** shall flood the soul ?**  
**What rich desire unlocks its door ?**  
**What sweet seduction lies before us?_

Neither of the lovers knew what sort of "sweet seductions" or the future held in store for them, but whatever happened, they intended to expierence it together, as husband and wife, lover and friend, singer and angel. And neither would ever have it any other way.

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One more chapter to go! Make sure you review! 


	31. Epilogue

_**Sweet Seduction**_

_Epilogue _

A/N: The music of the night really is over. I just wanted to thank all the wonderful people who have read and reviewed this story, or simply read it, as long as you enjoyed it. I don't think I've ever enjoyed writing any of my other stories more than this one, and I just wanted to say thanks. Your reviews just made my day, and I loved reading them. I'm planning to write some other POTO fanfic stories (and I've already written a new Wicked fic!) , so I hope everyone will check up on me once in a while to see what I have in the works. So (For the last time) please leave a review. And enjoy ;)

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_Erik and Christine Destler went on to lead happy (and musically) fulfilled lives. After the enormous success of Don Juan, Erik Destler continued writing operas, many of which were acclaimed as works of genius and some are still performed today. Eventually, after great consideration (and heavy persuasion from his wife) Erik Destler quit conducting and went on to become the Opera Poulaire's lead tenor to his wife's lead soprano for thirty wonderful years. Erik and Christine performed in many classical and modern operas, creating many memorable roles and performances and gaining fame all across Europe. Eventually, the controversies and fears about the "Phantom of the Opera" died down. Even with the publication of Leroux's novel of the same name in 1911, the Phantom was still only accepted as a myth or work of fiction, certainly not as a flesh-and-blood man and amazingly enough never once connected or suspected to the famous Erik Destler._

_Christine and Erik were blessed with four children: Emilie-Annaliese, Bernard, Danielle, and Colette Destler. All of their children were musically and intellectually blessed. Emilie-Annaliese was an extraordinary singer and student, and later sang for the Opera Populaire. Bernard was almost a child prodigy on the violin and piano, a passion he turned a fine musical career out of .Danielle was a very talented composer, but she preferred architecture and mathematics over music and later became one of the first female mathematics professors at École Polytechnique. Colette was an astounding dancer from a young age and eventually quit her schooling to tour with the Russian Ballet._

_Unfortunately, Emilie-Annaliese and Danielle did inherit parts of their father's deformity. One of Emilie-Annaliese's eyes was slightly larger than the other, and a different color, but nothing that stood out horridly once she applied some stage makeup. Danielle did have a more serious deformity, on her left cheek and upper forehead though, so she and her father always shared a sort-of special bond. But, unlike her father, Danielle never wore a mask, preferring to humiliate anyone who insulted or embarrassed her with her razor-sharp wits._

_Meg Giry did get married to her sweetheart Jacques after another year of courting, and Georges finally proposed to Mme. Giry weeks later, allotting for a double mother-daughter wedding. All four remained with the Opera Popluaire within their respective jobs for the rest of their lives. Meg and Jacques were always know as "Auntie Meg and Uncle Jacques" in the Destler household, and were always dropping in to chat with their friends and godchildren, just as Mme. Giry and Georges were affectionately known as "Grand-Mere and Grand-Pere" and always stopping by to see (and lovingly spoil) their "grand"children. Erik and Christine experienced the normal fights and feuds married couples go through, as well as the difficulties and fights with their children about the usual things; discipline, school, courting, and so forth. _

_Erik and Christine eventually told their children the story of their meeting and romance, sparing no details (including their struggle with Raoul, who by that time was long-deceased from suicide), and their children never saw their amazing parents or their Opera House in the same light again._

_When Erik and Christine eventually retired from performing, they spent their golden years traveling luxuriously around the world (even to America), regularly corresponding with their children and friends, and of course, singing._

_Christine Daae died of a heart condition on June 15th, 1912 at the age of fifty-nine. In her final hours, she was surrounded by friends and family, and her final moments were spent as her husband sang softly to her at her bedside, her last words being "Erik, I love you angel". Nothing could console Erik Destler, who after the death of his wife wasted away and fell into a deep depression. The only minor act that relieved his pain was laying a fresh, red rose with a black ribbon tied around it on his wife's grave until his own death of natural causes on November 26th, 1914._

_Years later, anyone who visited the lover's side by side graves were said to have heard gentle whispers on the breeze, one high soft and sweet, the other low, strong and warm, surrounding the graves and blending together in a fair harmony that sounded like music from the angels. Mayhaps it is the lovers singing together, maybe even the same words that are inscribed on their side-by-side tombstones:_

_You Alone Have Made My Song Take Flight,_

_It's Over Now, Our Music of the Night_

_**THE END**_


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